


His Lucky Stars

by Titti



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Challenge Response, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 16:00:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6335233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titti/pseuds/Titti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Luck.  Players were always talking about luck, reporters asked how lucky a win was, people everywhere thought that today was a lucky day. James didn't believe in luck.  Even as the son of Harry Potter, he had worked hard to get to where he was, starting chaser for the finally winning Cannons.  He knew well that when you wanted something, you couldn't rely on luck, not even on St. Patrick's Day.  No, you had to make your own luck and he intended to do just that.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Lucky Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2016 h[p_getlucky challenge](http://hp-getlucky.livejournal.com/)

Luck. Players were always talking about luck, reporters asked how lucky a win was, people everywhere thought that today was a lucky day. James didn't believe in luck. Even as the son of Harry Potter, he had worked hard to get to where he was, starting chaser for the finally winning Cannons. He knew well that when you wanted something, you couldn't rely on luck, not even on St. Patrick's Day. No, you had to make your own luck and he intended to do just that.

"Are you listening to me, Jamie?" Albus asked, standing in the middle of a room full of drunken players.

Scorpius snorted. "Of course he isn't. They are all drunk. You know what this win means mean for the team."

"That the little shits get paid even more money to play a game?" Albus asked with a grin.

"True, but with this victory, we're basically ensured the league title. Even my father is drinking," Scorpius whispered.

"Bollocks, he had one glass in his hand all night long. He might own this team, but he's not stupid enough to let this lot trash the manor," Albus said.

"I always said that you were the smart Potter," Draco said as he approached his son and Albus. 

"You just like him because he's the only Slytherin in that family," Scorpius said with a snort.

"Quite true, but he's also the only one not stupid enough to get drunk in my house and he doesn't even play for me," Draco pointed out, before all three men looked at the unconscious body of one James Sirius Potter, pretty boy and starting chaser for the Cannons. "Unlike your brother. Are you spending the night in the guest room?"

Albus nodded. "We were trying to get some sleep. Scorpius and I will be leaving early for our shift at St. Mungo's, but Jamie-" He gestured toward his brother. "Git doesn't care."

"Don't worry about him. If this house survived the shock of having one Potter sleeping here, we can have two," Draco said, smiling. He remembered the first time Scorpius had asked for _Potter_ to sleep over during the Christmas hols. Draco had immediately thought about the father and wondered why they would invite the Chosen One into their home. Things had started to make sense when Scorpius quietly said that Albus was the brother that he never had. With time, he and his parents became used to having Albus around. "The house elves can take him to one of the guest room. I won't make him leave."

Scorpius and Albus exchanged evil looks. "It would be interesting to see him Apparate," Albus said after a moment.

"Except the tosser will whinge until we fix him after he splinches himself," Scorpius pointed out.

"I'm too good looking to be seen around like this'," Albus said, trying to imitate his brother's voice.

"I can't possibly go to St. Mungo's. The press," Scorpius answered.

Draco chuckled. "You two are impossible. As much as I'd like to entertain you, he is one of my players and I have a certain responsibility."

"Especially after you drown them in alcohol," Albus put in.

"Always so very helpful, Albus. Thank you. However I'd like to point out that I'm simply hosting a part and it's not my fault that they have the control of a toddler," Draco answered.

"No, but if you don't start cutting them off and sending them home, they will all pass out here," Scorpius said. "And now we're going to be the responsible adults, Albus and I will get some sleep and you can deal with these-"

"Brainless, overgrown idiots who think playing a game is a job? Have fun, Draco." Albus winked at Draco and the followed Scorpius out of the room. 

Draco shook his head, smiling at Albus' antics, although there was a base of truth to what he'd said. If he let them, they would all end up at St. Mungo's with alcohol poisoning. Instead he instructed the house elves to start taking the ones who were completely pissed and unconscious home. As the numbers dwindled, the ones sober enough to Apparate got the hint and left themselves, until there was only James.

"I know you're not sleeping or unconscious," Draco said, his voice echoing in the enormous empty room.

Busted! James squinted as he opened his eyes. "It's too bright in here."

"I also know that you aren't drunk," Draco said.

"It's still too bloody bright," James murmured, not too pleased with having been caught in his brilliant plan, and it was a brilliant plan, except for the part that Draco wasn't supposed to know that he wasn't drunk.

"Nox." The torches went dark in the Great Hall and the only light came from the two fireplaces in the room. "Now, would you care to tell my why you're still here?"

James stretched and got up. It felt strange wearing robes at parties. He'd embraced his dad's love for trousers and jeans, but everyone knew that only wizarding attire would be allowed at a Malfoy party. Unless you were Albus. Draco made a lot of exceptions for Albus. "Do you have a thing for my brother?" he asked out of the blue.

Draco stood there, speechless and that didn't happened often. He had expected something not work related, but Albus? He took a moment to regain his compulsion. "I understand that since I came out, every so-called reporter has printed all sorts of things about me, but I would hope that you would know better. Just because I'm gay, it does not mean that I'm lusting over a boy who's practically like a second son to me! How could you even suggest that?"

James shrugged. "He's twenty-one, hardly a boy, and he spends a lot of time here. You let him wear Muggle clothes. He even calls you by your first name."

"He does not wear Muggle clothes!" Draco made a few exception when they returned from the hospital and Albus would have trousers under his robe, but other than that, no one wore Muggle clothes in his house. "And he calls me by my first name, because he is my son's best friend. They've been friends for ten years. He's spent holidays and birthdays with us. They do everything together."

"Are they-"

Draco winced. "No, they are both very straight as far as I can tell. Dating a new set twins at the moment, and do not ask about specifics, because I'm doing my best to ignore half of their comments. Why are you so interested in your brother's romantic life?"

"I'm not."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "The current discussion would seem to indicate otherwise."

"That wasn't-" He'd made a mess. He had a plan and now it had turned to rubbish. Maybe one did need luck. "I should probably go home."

Draco poured firewhiskey into two glasses and handed James one. "I promised your brother that you'd stay here. That was what you wanted, right? With your little performance, pretending to be drunk and asleep? I don't know what to make of it. My star player, lying to me and his brother, looking for an excuse to stay." He waited for James to drink, before adding casually, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you were trying to find an excuse to be alone with me."

James choked on the firewhiskey, spitting it back into the glass. "I-- It's not—" He looked up and saw the smug smile on his employer's face. "Bloody hell, bloody fucking hell, you knew-"

Draco laughed. "The real question is how doesn't everyone know? James, I hate to burst your bubble, but you're as subtle as your father. No," he added after a moment. "On occasion, your father could be subtle. You're just like your godfather."

"Uncle Ron would be very pleased to hear it," James murmured. "When did you know?"

"When? Oh about two weeks into your contract," Draco answered.

"That was three years ago."

Draco shrugged. "Well, at first I thought that it was my supreme arrogance speaking. I saw you flying over the pitch, listening attentively to your coaches, but as soon as I was there, your eyes always strayed. Pansy said that it was just me, the boss, the history with your father, and she could have been right, except that it never stopped. In fact, it got worse. I could see you stealing glances, licking your lips as you did so."

James groaned. "I'm sorry. That's so-" He ran his fingers through his hair. "It's so unprofessional and I didn't think anyone notice. Merlin, I'm sorry."

"No, need for apologies. You did your job, you played well and if you enjoyed looking at me-" Draco shrugged. "It was very good for my ego, although Pansy says that it's overinflated as is." He put down the glass and sat down on the couch that James had previously occupied. "Why me? You came into that first meeting and you were already looking at me differently."

"Truthfully?" He probably should have lied, but then he was pants at lying. He could misdirect the press without a problem, but if he tried to lie to someone he knew, his skin would turn red, spreading form his chest all the way up to his face. 

"Possibly," Draco answered amused. "Although people who plan to lie don't usually ask."

"Fifth year," James said softly.

Draco was startled by the admission. "Excuse me?"

"Fifth year," James said, louder, before sitting at the other end of the couch. "It's when you came out. I remember getting the news at school. Kids, you know kids, well they can be ruthless."

Draco nodded. "It's why I had spoken to Scorpius already. I knew it was only a matter of time before it became public, and I decided that it was better to do it on my own terms. Even then they liked to put their own spin," he said with a sigh.

"Yeah, I remember the picture the Daily Prophet used, you and Krum hugging," James said.

Draco snorted. "A picture from the Christmas party, a picture of two friends hugging each other and with Viktor's wife standing right next to him."

James smiled. "I know, but that picture- There was something. I have no clue what, but the way you were looking at each other."

"That's called friendship, James. That's all it was," Draco said.

"I didn't know back then. I just read the articles and listened to the other kids. By the way, if it makes you feel better, Albus hexed anyone who'd say anything around Scorpius. Slytherins would have gone into negative numbers if the teachers had found out, but he's sly, never got caught. True Slytherin." James didn't like Slytherins after years on the Quidditch team, but he loved his brother no matter what he did and it could be heard in his voice. "Still, that picture- It made me feel… things." He looked at Draco. "Things that I didn't feel when looking at girls, and then I started dreaming, and let's just say that they were very pleasant dreams," he said with a huge grin.

"Always the Gryffindor," Draco said chuckling. "I caused your sexual awakening without knowing it."

James nodded. "You did, and it was safe, because you didn't know, you weren't there and I couldn't be rejected. I couldn't be discovered, either. It was perfect. After that, there were real boys, men, always Muggles. I didn't want to be the first out Quidditch player, not if I wanted to make it in a good team, and I also didn't have to worry about them being interested in my name. And then I got hired by the Cannons. You came into my first meeting and every single fantasy was back."

Draco sighed. "You don't want me, James. You want this fantasy that you've carried with you for years. I'm flattered, I really am, but you do work for me and you could be my son."

"But I'm not," James answered.

"Yes, I'm aware of that, but you still work for me, and what you feel isn't real. It's something you created, and as much as I enjoy looking at you, I will not risk our reputations and that of the team for a fantasy. I'm sorry, James, but this can't happen." He got up. "I should be going. The house elf will take you to your room. Goodnight, James."

"Goodnight, _Mr. Malfoy_ ," James answered

Draco didn't flinch, but it was a close call. Instead, he walked out of the room and tried to forget all about the discussion.

* * *

"We have a problem," Tracey said as she entered Draco's office.

Draco looked up and smiled when he saw who was with the team manager. "I assure you, Tracey, that you can tell Pansy to leave at any time. She doesn't actually work for us, even though she spends so much time here that people get confused."

"Please, darling, what do you expect me to do? My husband prints books. Do you know how boring that is?" she said with a sigh. "Besides he hates gossip. I learn so much more here."

Draco snorted. "No one forced you to marry Theo. We all know that he's an introvert. A heresy for a Slytherin, and you do have three children."

"The twins are Scorpius' age and Jarlet is nineteen. They don't want to spend time with me anymore," Pansy answered

Draco smiled. "I'm so sorry to hear, but Tracey, you can still throw her out."

"She's not the problem," Tracey answered, used to her schoolmates' banter.

"Then what's the problem?" Draco asked

"Potter's agent got in touch with us saying that the Falcons want to take over his contract," she said without any inflection. Draco didn't need her to tell him that they couldn't lose Potter, both as a player or as a public figure, not when the Cannon had only started to win the past few years.

"Did you tell them that he has a five year contract with us?" Draco asked.

"I did," Tracey said.

"Then, tell them that he has a buyout clause in his contract and I want every single knut. If they are willing to give us all of that money- No, just leave it at the buyout clause and then tell Potter that I want to see him after training."

"You could let him go," Pansy said. "He's been playing abysmally since the win on St. Patrick's."

"That's only three weeks ago," Tracey pointed out. "And he hasn't played that badly. They all have slowed down, because they know that we're so far ahead that anyone else would need a miracle to beat us."

"Have the coaches push them. I don't want anyone slowing down or someone will beat us, and still send Potter in."

"Yes, Draco." Tracey smiled at Pansy. "Back to work for me. Come and find me when you're done with him and we'll have lunch together."

"Of course, darling. Draco is becoming too boring in his old age to keep my interest for long." Pansy waited until Tracey was gone before turning to Draco. "Did you bugger the boy? Because once Potter finds out, Quidditch will be the least of your problem."

"No, dear, I did not bugger the boy. That's the problem," Draco said with a sigh.

"At least you have enough sense to stop him," she said. "You can't go there, Draco. Even if he didn't have a contract with your team, you simply can't do it. Potter will kill you."

"Don't you think I'm aware of that?"

"You never had much self-preservation," she answered with a snort.

"I did. I do. Well, at least this time I did," he said with a sigh.

"But you thought about shagging the boy," Pansy said with a satisfied smile. "I know you too well. You're incapable of staying out of trouble when it comes to the Potters. You should have just shagged Potter in school."

Draco made a face. "Please, stop. Right now. Before I get sick."

"Oh darling, don't tell me that's not the reason you're interested." Pansy reached across the desk and covered Draco's hand. "You were always obsessed with Potter in school and I understand that you hadn't realized that you were gay, but there was something more with Potter. It was like you couldn't pull away even though you knew better."

Draco sighed again. He did that a lot around Pansy, but in this case, he wasn't sure if she saw something that he couldn't even see. Maybe she was right. His entire adolescence was marked by Potter, after all. "You might be correct."

"Of course I am," Pansy said, chippering up, "and now that I've done my good deed for the year, I can have lunch with Tracey. I'll see you later, darling."

"Give Theo and the children my regards." Draco leaned back against the chair. Soon he was alone with his thoughts. Did he really see Potter when looking at James? He wasn't obsessed with James, that was certain, but maybe that was because James was too readily available in a way that Potter wasn't. Then again, any time he'd met Potter as an adult, he'd barely felt anything other than the sting of pain that came with the memories of the war, so maybe Pansy was wrong. She was known to make mistakes once or twice.

* * *

"Mr. Malfoy, you wanted to see me?" James said as he peeked in.

"Yes, James, come in and close the door." Draco put down the quill and watched as the young man walked inside and took a seat across the desk from him. "We had a message from your agent about a transfer to the Falcons. I wanted to let you know in person that we're not authorizing such transfer. If they want you that badly, they'll have to pay what's in your buyout clause."

"Are you mad? You know that no one will pay _that_ kind of money," James said, annoyed.

Draco glared at James. "One, you will show proper respect because I am your boss. Two, I do know, which is why we put that clause in, to protect my team. Three, I will not release my best chaser and help a competing team in the process just because you're upset with me."

The metal feet of the chair screeched against the marble floor as James stood up. His boots clanked against the tiles as he paced. "It's not fair. You've released other players that wanted to go away, and this- It's not going to work. I've played like shit, you know I have."

"But you're not just another player," Draco answered. "In the past three years, you've become the winning face of the Cannons. I know you can play well and I'm hoping that once you get over whatever this is, you can show everyone what a brilliant player you are." 

"I'm not getting over this-" James stopped and winced when he realised that he was yelling at his boss. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to raise my voice, but you have to understand-" Long term plans were obviously not James' forte. He'd rushed into things on St. Patrick's Day, and then he'd made the firecall to his agent, always acting, never stopping to think and now here he was being forced to think by the very person he wanted to forget. "I can't think with you around," he finally said.

Draco pushed his chair back slowly, making no noise. James' movements screamed of tension and restlessness, in contrast every gesture Draco made was poised and calm. "I have to understand what? What is it that you think I don't understand?"

"It's not a fantasy." James would get Draco to understand that somewhere along the way he'd fallen in love, because that was what had happened. He wasn't even sure when and where it had happened. That crash had gradually turned into more and now he couldn't think of anyone else. "You should blame Albus. Because of him, you've been around our family for years. I didn't talk to you when I was younger, but later on, I kept looking for excuses to converse with you. When I left Puddlemere United, I already knew I was coming here. Uncle Ron still thinks that I signed up with the Cannons because of him, but I did it because of you, because I wanted to be close to you. The past three years have done nothing to stop what I feel for you. On the contrary, the more time we spend together, the more I want you."

Draco opened his mouth and then closed it again with a sigh. It would be so easy to believe James' words. He was sure that James believed them, but he was too old not to know better. And even if he didn't always do what was best, Pansy's visit had reminded him about the consequences. "Meetings and parties can't be considered spending time together."

"Then let's go out," James answered. "We can spend a night together, dinner at my place. You won't have to explain my presence to Scorpius or your parents. The house is warded and the press has no idea where I live since it's in Muggle London. It'll be just me and you for a few hours… or until morning if you want."

Once again, Draco was left speechless, before he started to laugh. He wasn't sure if he was transferring his past feelings for the father onto the son, but he knew that the two were both stupidly brave. "You have bollocks, Potter. I'll give you that."

"Come on, _Draco_ , what do you have to lose? You won't release me from my contract, I can't play any worse. What's the worst that can happen? You have a lousy night?"

"Or that your father kills me," Draco opined.

"He's not going to know unless you plan on telling him." James became serious after a moment. "I won't force you to go out with me, but I honestly don't know if I can continue playing here. I'll do my best, but there's a favour I have to ask. Don't call me 'Potter', not like that. It's how you sound when you talk to my father."

The innocent request was like a sharp knife, cutting at Draco until his own insecurities seeped out again. Maybe he was obsessed with Potter (the father). That idea should have make him run away, or maybe let James out of his contract, but he couldn't let it go. He needed to know if the attraction he'd felt was for the father or the son. Or maybe Pansy was right and he had no sense of self-preservation. "One dinner," he finally said. "If I decide that it's not working, you stop the tantrums, you stay until the end of your contract and play well, understood?"

James was bouncing on his feet. He stared at Draco and grinned. "Yes, Sir. I'll let you know when, okay?"

It was impossible not to be enveloped by the enthusiasm and Draco smiled as he nodded. "All right, now get out of here. It's late and you have practice tomorrow."

The groan was out before Draco even finished the sentence. "We're having extra practices, because of the last two games. I wonder who gave the order."

"Pretty sure that it was the man who pays your salary. Now go home."

James walked out, but stopped at the now open door. He turned to face Draco and bit his lip for a moment and then the biggest smile showed up. "See you tomorrow, Mr. Malfoy."

Potter was definitely going to kill him!

* * *

Scorpius entered Draco's bedroom and found his father standing in front of a standing mirror. There were no comments coming from it, though. His father's mirrors knew better than to mention the passage of time or the receding hairline. Then again, his father couldn't be too upset about it if he did nothing to glamour away the signs of his age, but he still hexed any mirror that made a comment. 

"You look handsome. Going anywhere special?" Scorpius said as he reached his father and started buttoning the double rows that went from neck to the waistline. 

"You were always fascinated by the buttons, even as a child," Draco said smiling. "And no, just a meeting."

Scorpius stared at his father, before his eyes moved down to the buttons. "You've always loved the buttons in your robe, the high collars. Even grandfather doesn't wear such austere robes, but you do. When I was little, I could never understand why you didn't use magic for them, but instead you did them one by one, and with each one, you seemed to stand a little straighter. Grandmother explained once that it was your way to build confidence. You still do it when you're nervous."

"It's just a meeting, Scorpius," Draco repeated.

"Sure, but if it were something else, it'd be okay. You've been divorced for a decade. Mother has a new life, a new lover, and you deserve to be happy too. It's not like we don't know that you're gay. We've known for a long time." Scorpius finished with the last button and smoothed the robe with his hands. "There, all done."

Draco covered his son's hands with his. "I know you know, but your grandparents- They know and they are fine with it as long as I'm not actually with someone. It's hard for them."

"Father, you've been alone for ten years. Before that, you spent your life doing what's best for them and me. Doing what they said, joining Voldemort, getting married. You've done everything to make them happy, then you raised me and you've always ignored what you wanted."

"I don't regret any of it. Even joining the Dark Lord- if I hadn't, your grandparents would have died long ago." Draco smiled as he looked at his son. "And I can't imagine my life without you."

"I know and it's great. You are great. But I'm twenty-one. You can't still live your life for me or your parents. You have to do what makes you happy and if this _meeting_ makes you happy, then it's about time."

"Why this discussion all of a sudden?" Draco asked, curious.

Scorpius laughed. "Because you've been getting ready for the past three hours. You're glaring at the mirror, daring it to say something, and you're putting on what grandmother calls your battle robe. If this were just a business meeting, you might have the robe, but you wouldn't care about your looks. Ten years and I've never seen you so anxious about any business meeting. I hope it goes well, and if not, there's a lot more men out there. Just have fun for tonight, that's all."

"When did you get so smart?" Draco asked, letting go of Scorpius' hands.

"Don't know, but I know that it was because of you. I adore Mother, you know I do, but you raised me. For eleven years, you were by my side every waking moment. I don't remember a single time when you left me. You loved me, cared for me, taught me what I needed to know and made me happy. I want you happy, too."

"Oi, what's taking so long?" Albus asked as he stepped inside without knocking. "Victoria and Elizabeth are waiting."

"Yeah, coming."

"Not yet, but you will be," Albus answered with a grin, before turning to Draco. "My, my, don't you look spiffy. Looks like we're not the only ones getting laid tonight."

"Albus, do you speak to your father like this?" Draco asked.

"All the time, got me in trouble for years, but now I'm too old to be grounded." 

"You're incorrigible. So any special plans for the night?" Draco asked, despite knowing better than to give Albus such an opening, but he liked to know what his son was up to. It also moved the focus from himself to the boys.

"Albus is showing us a film on the telly," Scorpius answered, before his friend could say anything.

"And you're back to saying things I don't understand. I'll leave the Muggle things to you and your ladies, and which one is yours?" Draco asked.

"We still haven't figured it out who's who. They look alike, but Scorpius and I are best mates and we don't mind sharing or even having fun together," Albus said.

Draco groaned at the answer. "I did not need to know that. You boys, go, before I decide to ground you myself." He waited a moment. Scorpius was almost at the door, before he called out his son's name. "I love you more than anything on this earth."

"I know, Father. I love you, too." Scorpius smiled at Draco and then followed Albus out.

* * *

Draco Apparated to the heart of Muggle London. His exposure to Muggles was generally limited to the ones who mistakenly reached the manor's gates. London meant Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley, King's Cross at the most, which meant that he had done research before coming here. Tracey was his main source of information. He didn't want her to know about James, therefore he had asked her about the residencies of all of their players. That was when he had learned that James lived in a very posh part of town, near things like Buckingham Palace and 10 Downing Street. Those words meant nothing to him, but Tracey seemed impressed and that created some expectations. 

He was extremely disappointed!

The building itself was fine from the outside. The big door did not swing open when he arrived, but Draco accepted that Muggles simply weren't as good as wizards. It still took him a good ten minutes to guess that he was supposed to press the button near James' name on it. When the door opened after a buzz, he stepped inside, expecting a house, but he was very wrong. The hallway barely fit three people. The stairs were narrow and steep. When he reached the top floor, there were two opposite doors. One of them was ajar and he took that as a sign that he should go in.

"Be right out. Make yourself comfortable," James said behind a closed door.

Draco stepped inside and a sense of claustrophobia invaded him. The hallway was only two metres long at the most. To his right there was a kitchen that would only fit two people standing and from there, he could see a bathroom just as small (and why would you have to go through a kitchen for a bathroom?). To his left, there was a small room that seemed to be a drawing room, dining room and sitting room all in one.

James opened the door at the end of the hallway. Draco saw the bedroom that wasn't much bigger than the drawing room. He was so fixated on the rooms that he missed the smile that turned into a frown. "You don't like it," James said.

"Like it? My closet is bigger than your drawing room. Why would your father let you stay here?" he asked horrified.

"My father doesn't _let_ me do anything. I'm an adult, in case you forgot. I make my own choices," James snapped back.

"So is Scorpius. Do you think I'd let him live like this?" Draco looked around again and the shock was not wearing off. "Why? I know I pay you well enough that you could have a much bigger house in our world. Are Muggle homes this expensive?"

"Yes and no. They are expensive in this area, but not for us, if you consider the exchange rate at Gringotts," James explained as he walked (or more like he took two steps) into the drawing room. "I like living here." After a moment, he smiled. "And you must have looked so out of place standing downstairs in those robes."

Draco's attention finally shifted from the flat to the man. James was wearing a pair of jeans (and Draco knew what they were because Potter had always worn them) and a very tight shirt. "Is this how you dress in the Muggle world?"

"And the wizarding world," James said, laughing. "Unless I'm doing something for the team or some party at the Ministry, I'm usually wearing this. Even at your house, I usually have jeans under my robes. I would ask if you want to take your robe off-"

"But I would be naked," Draco finished for him. "Your father would do that in school. I never understood the reason. You have a perfectly good robe, why use Muggle clothes? Why live-" He turned around and stared at the kitchen. "here?"

"You won't let it go, will you? Let me get our food and you can continue to bash my home through dinner," James said, easily.

Alone, or as alone as he could be considering the size of the flat, he looked around again. The couch was some wooden structure with minimal padding. The table and chairs looked just as uncomfortable. He took his wand out and transfigured the furniture. The couch was now wide and fluffy, encased by soft leather. The chairs were padded and covered with white silk. The table was set with a matching table cloth. "Better," he told himself, before taking a seat. "Why don't you at least fix your furniture?" he asked, as James entered the room with strange containers. "And what are those?"

"I didn't want to subject you to my food. Grandma says that I shame the Weasley name. These are take-away boxes from an Italian restaurant around here. Plates… I guess, I usually don't bother," he said as he put down the boxes.

"Were you raised in a pigsty?" Draco had used similar words with Weasley, but they were used as an insult and not because Draco believed them. He was starting to rethink his position. 

James rolled his eyes. "It's just easier. I eat from the containers and throw them out."

"I see," was Draco's curt respond, before shaking his head. "Potters and magic. You are a wizard, do you know that?" He transfigured the containers into serving plates, the lids into regular plates and the plastic cups and utensils into glasses and metal utensils. 

"Right, drinks, beer or wine?" James asked. "Wine, right? Scorpius said that you don't drink beer."

"Because it tastes like hippogriff's piss," Draco said.

"And how would you know that?" James laughed as he went back to the kitchen and returned with a bottle of red. "There are a lot of restaurants around here," he explained as he sat down. He began serving Draco, giving him a little of everything. "Italian, Thai, Chinese, one Mexican. I love to try different things. I didn't know what you like, but everyone likes Italian, so… what do you like?"

"Nothing Muggle, or at least I wouldn't know what I like. I tend not to interact with Muggles. My only interaction with them is when they get lost from the town and get to the manor's gates. I Obliviate them and send them back home. Otherwise, I can't remember speaking to a Muggle in-" He frowned. "In ever. No, that's wrong. I met Granger's parents at a ministry function. Once. That was … 1999, I believe. Yes, after we finished Hogwarts. There was a big function. We – my parents and I had to go not because we wanted to, but because we had to be seen honouring the brave students that fought in the war. She introduced them to me and my mother. I believe that's the first and last time I had a conversation with a Muggle."

"That's before I was born. How do you do that?" James asked with a frown.

"I'm aware of that. I don't need to be reminded how young you are," Draco said, chuckling. "And it's very simple to do when I have nothing in common with Muggles."

"Just because you don't have anything in common, it doesn't mean you have to avoid them," James reasoned.

"But I don't. I simply have no reason to be around them. All my acquaintances live in our world. I shop in our stores, I go out to our restaurants, I vacation in other countries, but I stay in our areas."

"You mean the wizarding areas. You know the Muggle world isn't bad and there are some pretty great things," James insisted.

Draco shrugged. "Maybe, but I like my life the way it is. I like knowing that our homes can be made bigger if necessary, that I can wear a robe and not be out of place, that I know what things are. I enjoy that people know who I am. Even when they hate me, they still know me."

"And that's exactly why I live here. People don't know who I am. I'm just a name and a face. No one cares that James Sirius Potter lives here. There are no reporters following me home. No fans trying to get into my house. There's never been a time in my life when I haven't been in the public eye and I hate the constant attention." James sighed. "You don't know what it's like with my dad."

Draco laughed. "I was in school with him; I know exactly what it's like to be in your father's shadow. You're a great player, but no one can be him, the Chosen One, the Boy Who Lived, we even have a holiday for his birthday. I understand that part, but you could still live in our world, put the right spells."

"It's not the same. They might not be able to come into the house, but I'd never be able to go outside without someone being there. They'd be spying." James' cheeks turned red. "And I'd never date anyone."

"Ah yes, the joys of a gay player," Draco said bitterly. "I understand that as well. By the way, this food is acceptable."

"Wow, great praises, there," James said, chuckling.

"Don't push it. I'm still trying to take in your Muggle lifestyle." He raised his eyes to the black mirror that hang from the wall to the side of the table. "Why a black mirror?"

James frowned and looked up. "Black… oh you mean the telly."

"Scorpius has mention that, something about moving pictures." Something else that Draco knew nothing about.

"Accio remote." James turned on the television and flipped to the channels. "Each channel shows something different. It's like our wireless, but with pictures. In fact, our wireless is called radio. This is a television and this sport is football. It's very famous with the Muggles, like our Quidditch."

"I see." Draco ate in silence, letting James switch channels for a while until he shut the television off. "Do you see how absurd this is? I am old enough to be your father. You think about romantic liaisons with Muggles. You live in a world that is foreign to me. We have nothing in common."

"We love Quidditch. We know how bad it is to live in my father's shadow. We know our history. We know magic," James said.

"You could say that of almost every wizard," Draco pointed out.

"But I know that you speak without contractions when you are upset. Your tone is softer when you talk to Scorpius and even to Albus. Even when they have done something stupid, you indulge them. I know that you don't like beer, but you really like firewhiskey, neat. I know that you bitch at Mrs. Nott, but you love her."

"Just don't say it when Pansy is around. We'd never hear the end of it," Draco said with a chuckle.

"I won't. I also know that you love watching us play, but you haven't played in ages," James said a little sad, because no one should stop playing, even if just for fun.

"Since school to be precise. Quidditch became an obligation and I had too many others." The end of fifth year had changed his life forever and he would carry the scars inside until his death. "After that, I wasn't really popular for many years, and then life happened. How do you even know that?"

"You told Uncle Ron once. It was right before Scorpius got his Apparating license. You brought him to the house, because he didn't want to use the Floo and get dirty. You stayed a while and talked to Dad and the others, and they always talk about Quidditch. You mentioned not playing," James answered. "I was paying attention."

"I can see that. I never knew I hired my own stalker," he said, smiling.

"I wasn't stalking you; I was fascinated by you, but I want to get to know you on a more personal level. Give this a chance and I reckon that you'll see that I'm right and this is not ridiculous." Something had been nagging him since Draco had agreed, though. It had been almost too easy, considering how Draco didn't seem interested, and that feeling was back. "If you don't think this is going to work, why did you agree to come over then?"

Draco put his fork down and stared at James for a moment and then spoke up. "I don't know. I honestly- You're attractive, anyone can see that, but it's not just that. I look at you and I feel things that I haven't felt in a long time. The way you laugh when I make a joke. The smile I see when you look at me. I know this is mad, but I needed to see why I felt this way and if it was connected to your father. Some would say that we were obsessed with each other."

"Is it? Connected to my father, I mean?" James asked softly.

He didn't have to think about that answer. This entire discussion has proved that once in a while Pansy could be wrong. "No, it's not. You're not like him at all. You look like him, although I see you've thankfully learned how to deal with your hair."

James snorted. "Magic is a beautiful thing. They stay how they are supposed to stay."

"And the colour changes too," Draco pointed out.

"I was tired of the comments about the black messy hair or the red hair, so brown it is," James answered. "Do you know what I don't understand? You've just said that you find me attractive."

Draco scoffed. "I'd have to be blind not to be. You're young, good looking, incredibly fit. Someone would have to be crazy not to find you attractive."

"Then why fight this so much?"

"Because finding you attractive might lead to sex, but you want something different. You're talking about feelings and relationships, but my objections still stand. We have little in common and you still work for me. It would ruin you if this came out," Draco pointed out.

"That's for me to worry about," James answered. He gave up any pretence of eating and turned toward Draco. He leaned closer, one hand on Draco's thigh. Their lips so close that it would be easier to stop talking and kiss the other man, except he could feel the tension in Draco's leg, as if he were ready to bolt. It was the only thing that stopped James at the moment. "You promised me one night. Give me this night to show that you're wrong."

"One night? You're pretty ambitious."

James grinned. "Or balmy. I'm a Gryffindor after all, and I take whatever opportunity comes my way." He proved his point by leaning closer and closing the gap. He pressed his lips against Draco's, teasing them open until he could slip his tongue inside Draco's mouth. The soft moan spurred him on. They were kissing, barely touching, but he could feel the heat radiating from the other man. Then in the blink of an eye, something changed. Draco stood up and grabbed him by the shirt. Their bodies were flush and Draco pulled his shirt until James could feel the press of slender fingers against his bare back.

 

Draco kissed James hungrily, nipped at his jaw. Gone was the reserved distance from moments before, lust left in its wake. "Bedroom," Draco growled, and the sound made James go hard. 

"Great idea." James took his tee shirt off and dropped it on the floor, before hooking his arms around Draco and pulling him along. His shoes were lost in the middle of the hallway and he was already opening his jeans. Best of all, Draco was holding and kissing him like their lives depended on it, never letting go more than necessary to rid them of another layer of clothes.

In the darkness of his bedroom, James looked at Draco. He couldn't believe this was really happening. More than that, he couldn't believe how eager Draco suddenly was. "Merlin, I've wanted this so much."

"Then stop talking." Too many words might make Draco regret what they were doing. He was focusing on the here and now and pushing away all the reasons why he shouldn't be doing this.

James grinned again. "Action. I like that. It's a Gryffindor plan." He reached for Draco's robe and saw the two rows of buttons from neck to waist. "Are you serious?"

Draco rolled his eyes. He didn't even bother with his wand, but instead he murmured a spell and all the buttons were undone. "Does that suit your Gryffindor plan better?"

Before James could answer, they were kissing again, while pulling at the robe and jeans, getting rid of them trying not to break apart. Each touch was answered by needy sounds that drove James crazy. The cold Slytherin turned into fire in his hands. "Fuck, this is-"

"Do shut up," Draco murmured breathless, as he pushed James to the bed.

A breathy laugh escaped James. He could stay quiet, at least when he was shoving his tongue in Draco's mouth or sucking on his neck or kissing him. He could stay quiet as they lay down in bed, warm bodies pressed against each other, hands speaking a thousand words as they explored in a frenzy. He could stay quiet when he saw the way Draco responded so passionately and he listened to every sound the other man made. The soft gasp when he touched a nipple. The gentle moan when his fingers moved over Draco's chest. The restrained groan as he sucked on Draco's neck. Everything he did got him an amazing response. "Merlin, you-"

"You're talking again."

James closed his teeth around a nipple, smiling as Draco threw his head back and moaned. "Like that, don't you?" He raised his head, smiling. "I have some lotion or spell, what you prefer?"

"You're not putting Muggle things in me," Draco answered.

James stopped moving, confused. "In you? I thought that you'd want to shag me."

"Do you object to topping?" Draco asked matter-of-fact. This was an area that was familiar to him. He always knew what he wanted and had no problem telling me.

"No, not at all. I prefer it, but I thought-"

"Since I'm older-" Draco saw a nod and tried not to get too annoyed at the presumption. "And your boss-" Another nod. "Well, I prefer to bottom and unless you have some objection, we can carry on. With spells. Nothing Muggle or I will hex you."

James grinned, before covering Draco's body with this. He murmured a lubrication spell as he pressed his lips to Draco's. Spells took some of the fun out. Less foreplay and down to business, but Draco seemed impatient, sliding a leg over the back of James', spreading his legs to urge James on. "And you think I'm impatient," James said, but cast another spell to help loosen Draco up

"At least you know the important spells," Draco whispered, between kisses.

"Glad you approve," James answered as he positioned his cock against Draco. Propped on his elbows, he watched as he pressed inside, moving slowly. His cock gripped by warm tightness. The desire that had built for years spread through him, but he knew better than to voice what he was feeling. Instead, he put his emotions into his love making. Long, slow strokes talked about the long anticipation that had built through the years. His kisses spoke of something more than sex. His hands showed affection and respect, and then they closed around Draco's prick and started to sing a different tune, one of reciprocal pleasure and desire. His thrusts became short and snappy as he shared the urgent need he felt. 

Draco gripped James' hair, pulling him closer, kissing him hungrily. Gone was his reserved demeanour as he canted his hips, moving in time with James, pushing into James' fist and then back onto his cock until he could finally forget about the world around him and focus on pure carnal desire. 

Words were taboo, only the harsh sounds of sex filled the room. For once, James was too afraid to question it, surrendering to physical pleasure, enjoying every sensation, memorising every detail. Draco looked transformed in the heat of passion. His pale skin had a pink tinge, his hair was ruffled from all the touching, his lips were swollen from the kiss. James knew that very few people had the pleasure to see Draco like this and he took this as a win. He also took it as a challenge. He wanted Draco to feel good, better than good. He wanted this to be more than a one off. He kept thrusting inside Draco, aiming for that little nub of pleasure and when he found it, he hit it again and again.

"Fuck." The whisper that escaped Draco was another win for James, but Draco didn't care. He had gone without sex for so long that now everything felt magnified. Draco had built wall after wall until he couldn't even remember what it felt like to be touched by another man, but now it was rushing back. His entire body was tingling with need. He wanted this to never end, but he was too starved for pleasure and it wasn't long before he was spilling into James' hand.

James stopped long enough to let go of Draco's cock and plant his hands on each side of Draco's face. He began rocking hard, faster, until he was coming inside his lover. One last thrust and James fell on Draco, resting his head on Draco's shoulder. He smiled when he felt fingers brush his hair. "Mmm, that was marvellous."

"I'll have to agree," Draco said, amused. "Was it everything you wanted?"

James thought in silence and then raised his head to look at Draco. "No. The sex was great, but that's not what I want. I want the next time and then the next, without setting a deadline and if it doesn't work out, then fine, but it's never going to work if you're already planning to end it."

He rolled off and lay back, shoulder against shoulder. James stared at the ceiling, thinking about what had happened. He was good, he knew he was good, but nothing tonight had gone according to plan. Draco's reactions were not normal, no matter how great he was in bed.

"Trouble is brewing when you are quiet," Draco said softly.

"I thought you liked it when I shut up." James knew that he had no ability to stay silent for long anyway. "How long has it been?"

"That obvious?" Draco asked.

James rolled his head to look at Draco. "You're anything but obvious, except something is off. You were adamant that nothing would happen and ten minutes later we're naked and covered in come. I've had shags in bathrooms last longer."

Draco's tensed and his demeanour changed, walls going up to protect himself. "You can just admit that you didn't enjoy yourself."

"That's not what I said!" James rolled to his side again and put an arm around Draco. "Hard and fast can be very good. It was very good in fact, but there's still something you aren't telling me and the only thing I can think of is that you haven't gotten laid in a while, which is fine, bloody perfect as far as I'm concerned. I'd ask if you're a virgin, but even I'm not that arrogant."

Draco backhanded it without much conviction and it turned into a caress more than a slap. "Eight years," he said with a heavy sigh.

"Eight years… Oh, _oh_ , Merlin's balls, eight bloody years? Are you bonkers? Why? That's when you came out. You were finally free to do what you wanted and you decided to become celibate, what's wrong with you?"

Draco scoffed. "Malfoys are never free." He finally looked at James. "I was seeing this man, a friend of Astoria. She had moved to Paris to work in a museum there, met people, many of the men in her circle are gay. She introduced me to a few, I hit it off with Armel. I thought that everything was going well until Astoria found out that he was trying to sell his story to a magazine. It's why I came out."

"Yes, but now you can see anyone. You told the world that you're gay. They can't out you twice," James reasoned.

"There's always something to know. They might not tell the world about my sexuality, but they can talk about the details of what we do, or they can discuss my son, they can divulge the sordid details of my parents. It wouldn't even matter if it were true." Draco ran his hand over James' arm, the motion calming him as he shared something no one but his family knew. "You know how the press works."

"Still eight years is a bloody long time to go without. I should definitely be your bootie call from now on," James answered smiling. 

"Do I get to ask something about you?" Draco teased. He was a Slytherin and that wasn't how life worked, but James instead took him seriously.

"Fair is fair," James answered. "Shoot, what do you want to know?"

"What do you see in me?" Draco asked.

"You're still on about that. I thought you were an arrogant git, Uncle Ron's words not mine," James answered.

"I am. I'm also very well aware of how I look. I know that Quidditch never gave me the bodies you lot seem to have and I stopped being your age long ago." Draco was sure that he would have discovered his sexual preferences a lot earlier if Quidditch players had looked like they did today.

"You have to thank Muggles for the cross-training and the abs that come with it," he answered with a smug smile on his face. "A lot of the spells and exercises we do are actually taken from the Muggle world. But to answer your question, I'm not interested in a body. By the way, yours is fine, although you should totally eat more. Grandma always says you're too skinny, but to answer your question, if I were interested in a hot bloke, I could go out to a club, pick up someone and never talk to him again, but it's not what I want. I want to get to know you: the pureblood, the businessman, the father. I enjoy listening to your witty come-backs, to the way you can insult a person with a few words and a smile. Face it, Mr. Malfoy, you're a very charming man."

Draco laughed openly at that. "Your entire family would disown you for thinking that, but all right, I'll take that answer for now."

James ran his hand over Draco's arm, stopping at the wrist. He drew circles on Draco's forearm, and Draco knew what was coming before James said, "Did you really have the mark?"

"Yes," Draco said calmly. "I grew up being told that it was an honour, a sign of pride and power. It wasn't. It was the mark of a madman who wanted to control us. I hated it from the first moment he put it on me. It burned fiercely at the end, but I knew your father had finally done it and killed him when it disappeared completely. It was the first time that I finally understood why people were so glad about your father's existence."

"Does Dad know?" James asked.

"That I had the mark or that I'm glad he won? I'm sure he suspects about the mark although he never asked me directly. We've learned to talk civilly through the years, but we aren't friends. There's too much history between us, but I'd like to think that despite the lack of words or friendship, we understand each other and he would have never testified in our favour if he thought that we wanted the Dark Lord to win." Draco forced a smile, not an easy task when thinking about that period of their lives. "I don't think your generation can ever understand. I don't think our schoolmates even understood what it was to have a destiny."

"Careful there, you sound like you might actually like my father," James teased.

Draco chuckled again. "As long as he doesn't know, then it's fine. Now, a much serious question for you, will you be able to play against the Harpies if your sister plays?"

"She didn't play in the first leg of the league," James answered.

"That game was two months after she started playing. She's been playing more games now," Draco pointed out. "She might play against us. Will you be okay?"

James nodded. "Yes, I think so. I won't let them win, if that's what you're worried about. Uncle Ron would never forgive me if I did. He and Mum have this bet going every time that the Cannons and the Harpies meet. Mum is loyal to her team and Uncle Ron- He still can't figure out how to root for us and not look like he's supporting you."

"Now, your uncle and I really and truly don't like each other. Father hates him," Draco said. 

"Your father doesn't even _know_ him," James said.

"Yes, but my father is still a very prejudiced man. He might not express his views publicly, but he really hates what your family has done to cut down another pureblood family. Charlie never married. Bill married a Veela. George married a Johnson. She might be a pureblood, but she has a Muggle last name, so she's not a real pureblood in my father's eyes. Ron married a Muggleborn. Truly the only ones who married up are Percy and your mother. This is also the only time you'll hear me use their first names, because it would be bothersome to distinguish them otherwise. At least without insulting them," he added with a smirk.

James rolled his eyes. "So good to see that you can be an adult and refrain from insulting them to my face. Mmm, and I can see Uncle Percy, but Mum married a half-blood. How does that work?"

"She didn't marry a half-blood. She married Harry Potter. My father might hate your father and his heritage, but he approves of his power and fame," Draco answered. 

"I'm sorry, but your father sounds like a jerk," James said. 

"He is," Draco admitted. "I don't think he ever forgave me for not… I don't know, not killing your father, not becoming as powerful as Voldemort, for being gay. I know he loves me, he always has, but he never looked at me the same, especially after I told him, in no uncertain terms, that we would accept your father's help at the trials. I think he resented me, because he saw his own failures in me, but for all of his faults, he is my father and I love him."

"And you stay celibate so that he doesn't get upset. That's so crazy, but I'm the lucky one in this case since I get you all to myself." James' fingers roamed over Draco's body, but stopped over the other scars that had made him curious while kissing Draco. "Was this Voldemort?"

"No," Draco said, and for the first time there was no explanation attached.

"Your father?" James pressed.

"No! My father might not have the respect for me that he once had, but he would never hurt me," Draco said, horrified at the idea of his parents hurting him in such a fashion. "Despite everything, my father has tried to give me everything I wanted. Scars were never included in my wish list. My second year, I got into the Slytherin team. I know people said that Father bought my way in, but it's not true. I made the team and then he ended up buying brand new brooms for the entire house, because he wanted me happy."

"Were they for you or him, though?" James asked.

"A little bit of both. Back then, I still enjoyed playing. Then it became another reason to beat your father. Win the House Cup, win the Quidditch Cup, see how much Dumbledore would favour the Gryffindors, it all became exhausting. Your father truly was the bane of my existence in school."

"You still haven't told me who gave you these," James said.

"You never asked me that." Draco looked up. He would have had a very different answer once upon a time. Potter had tried to kill him, but the truth as always was somewhere in between his claims and Potter's. "We were young and incredibly stupid, so sure that we were always right-"

"Shit, was it Dad?" James asked horrified.

"Don't start thinking that he's a horrible person. I wasn't kind either and he was defending himself. He cast a spell without knowing what it did. He probably knew that he would do some damage, just not as much as he did," Draco explained. "Thankfully, Severus was there and he undid most of the damage. You can barely see them and not many people get to see me naked anyway."

"Can you feel? I mean the scarring would make it hard to feel, but it didn't look like you couldn't feel my touch," he said with a frown.

"I can feel your hands. The scars were very tiny, more like papercuts. It's fine. Most of the time, I forget that they are even there," Draco admitted. "Now, are you done with the third degree?"

"One more question, will you stay tonight?" James asked, almost hesitantly.

Draco had expected another question – can we do this again?, - but they knew that he would come back if James asked. Tonight had brought up feelings and emotions that he hadn't felt in years. In the end, he'd get hurt again, because James was young and would eventually find someone more appropriate, but Draco would enjoy this until it lasted. "Tonight? Mmm, I don't know if we both fit in this house."

James laughed and rolled on top of Draco. "We'll just have to sleep very close to each other."

Draco gave James the patented Malfoy smirk. "That's a suitable compromise."

* * *

"You wanted to see me," James said as he stepped into Draco's office on Monday morning.

Draco finished the letter he was writing, ignoring the other man. He could hear James shuffle from foot to foot, until in typical Gryffindor fashion, he decided to sit down without an invitation. Draco did not say anything until he was done. He could have stopped as soon as James had come in, since he wasn't doing anything important, but a little power play never hurt at work. He finally put the quill down and stared at his player. "And you have no idea why, is that correct?"

James winced. "I'm sorry- I know it was stupid. I should have never-"

"You don't say," Draco said, sarcastically. "I asked you if you could play against your sister, remember that? You said no problem, and then you hexed our beater, because he was too rough."

"Did you see what he did?" James asked.

"Yes, he did what he would do and _has_ done to other players and you've never said a word." Draco took a deep breath. "I'm not going to argue with you. You're benched."

"You can't be serious," James said, aghast.

"I'm very serious. Now go back to training, during which I expect you to do your best regardless." He picked up the quill again, signalling that the conversation was over.

"For how long?"

Draco looked up again. "Until you've grovelled enough and your teammates can forgive you, which means, it's up to the coach."

"All right, fair enough." James got up, but instead of leaving, he hesitate. "I truly am sorry, Draco-"

"Mr. Malfoy to you."

"But I thought-" James started, confused.

"Please don't. It never ends well when Gryffindors think," Draco answered with a smirk. "Inside this office, in this arena, I'm your boss and nothing more. It's the only way it's going to work."

"Oh." James grinned. "So I guess this is a bad time to invite you to my birthday. Mum told me last night that she's having a party at their house in two weeks. I think she felt bad for me after listening to Lily's rant."

Draco snorted. "If your sister is anything like your mother, I'm shocked that talking was all she did. You really did make her look like a fool."

"So she said. Repeatedly and loudly. There might have been a few jinxes I won't mention, but my ego is still bruised," James admitted. "I couldn't even reciprocate, because I knew she was right."

"Remind me to thank her for doing my job." Draco might just have to send her a bottle of firewhiskey.

"You can do it at the party," James answered.

"Go. Now." Draco watched the younger man leave and only then, he smiled. He should have known that a Potter would drive him crazy, but now he actually enjoyed it.

* * *

Draco would have liked to say that he wasn't used to the chaos that reigned supreme at the Potters' during a party, but he'd taken Scorpius one too many times to feign surprise. Instead, he found a corner, ignored the glares from the Weasel, and watched everyone. Scorpius seemed to take it all in stride, but there were too many generations in here from Molly and Arthur to Teddy and Victoire's children, they were all too loud and Draco was looking forward to when he could finally go home. At least they were finally at the cake.

"This is so nice," Molly said. "We should do it more often."

"Mum, we do it every week," Ginny answered.

"Not during the Quidditch season. They are all so busy playing," she pointed out.

"Season is almost over, Grams," James said with a grin.

"It is for you." Lily stuck her tongue out to her brother. "By the way, thanks for that, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco felt every pair of eyes suddenly turn on him. He'd been so good at being ignored, except for Scorpius, Albus, Teddy, Victoire and Aunt Andromeda, but now everyone was staring. "Yes, well, the gratitude is mutual. I was informed that you explained in depth and using means not at my disposal why he was wrong."

Albus snorted. "She hexed his sorry arse, that's what she did."

"I still can't believe you're not letting him play," Ron said.

"And yet since I make the decisions, the Cannons have been winning," Draco replied, trying to use sarcasm and not insults, before wands started to come out.

"Enough about Quidditch," Molly said. "That's all you lot seem to talk about. What about boys and girls? When are you starting getting married and giving me great-grandchildren?"

"You are a great-grandmother," Victoire pointed out just as little Remus decided to wake up and cry. "And there's your proof."

"Well, yes, but that's because you are a good girl. What about the rest of you? Quidditch, careers, life isn't worth living if you don't have someone to share it with. How about you, Jamie? You're the oldest after Victorie. When are you going to bring us a boy to settle down with?" Molly's words had a freezing effect around the room and everyone was once again looking at Draco.

Ron cleared his throat. "Mum- Malfoy is here."

From his corner, Draco could see James freeze at his uncle's words. He had to admit that for a moment, he had been confused, too, but no one could know about them and before James could open his mouth and say something revealing, he spoke up. "No need to be coy. James has told me about his preferences and it would have been hypocritical of me to judge him, all things considered."

Ginny decided that was enough conversation about people and sexuality. She waved her wand and cleared the table. "All right, we've had enough food and drinks. It's time to play. Let's get the brooms and play Quidditch. Everyone out so that I can clean up."

Suddenly, it was like a stampede of hippogriffs moving to the garden. Draco stood out of the way until most of the family had gone outside. When Molly, Arthur, Andromeda and Ginny were the only ones left, he stepped outside. There were teams in the air. Albus and Scorpius were the two seekers, although Albus had played chaser in school. There was a cheering section getting organised with chairs and drinks. They moved in an orchestrated chaos that proved that this was a normal occurrence. Harry coming to stand next to him was not normal. For a while, they both watched the game unfold above them, but Draco knew that Potter hadn't approached him for silent companionship.

"How long has this been going on?" Harry asked when it was clear that everyone was getting into the game and they weren't paying attention to the two former schoolmates. "And do me the courtesy not to pretend that you don't know what I'm talking about."

"I don't remember you being this perceptive. How long did you suspect Severus of wanting to kill you?" Draco asked.

Harry laughed. "Snape knew how to hide. Thankfully for me and Ginny, Jamie is nothing like his parents and can't lie to save his life. Albus is a very different thing."

"He's a Slytherin," Draco said.

"Yes, he is and he was quite the challenge to bring up, so very different from us, but Jamie is a Weasley. He wears his emotions on his sleeve." The affection for his son rang in every word and even in the way Harry was watching his son fly in the sky. "I've watched him around you at too many parties, catching the way he looked at you and blushed at some innuendo, or how he tried to manoeuvre people so that he could be next to you. He's had a crash on you for years, but today he's been very comfortable around you. The only time he tensed is when he thought Ron had guessed.

"Then there's you. There was no reason for you to be here, certainly no reason to stay as long as you have," Harry said. "Usually when you stay, you focus on Scorpius and Albus and ignore everyone else. Today, you kept looking at him, smiling back when he looked at you, tensing when someone made a joke at his expense. Something changed there."

"Is this public knowledge?" Draco asked.

Harry snorted. "About you two? You're both still standing, right? No, no one else knows. I think Albus might suspect, but he won't say anything because of Scorpius. About Jamie? Possibly everyone. So how long?"

Draco sighed. He did not enjoy talking about himself, especially with Harry Bloody Potter. "Not long. A month. He is rather obvious, isn't he? I don't know how this is going to stay secret when everyone can tell what he's thinking."

Harry chuckled. "You should have known what you were getting yourself into by getting involved with a Gryffindor."

"You're taking this well. I was expecting warnings at the very least, murder at the most, with hexes as the most likely outcome." It was what he would have done if a man his age had gone after Scorpius.

Harry pushed up his glasses with a finger and then looked at Draco. "Maybe if I hadn't watched him pine after you for years. I also know that you won't hurt him, not the way others could. You're never going to sell him out to the press and you certainly aren't with him because you want to be part of his family."

Draco snorted. "As much as I've tried to distance myself from you and the Weasleys, I keep getting sucked in."

"It's not so bad, is it?" Harry asked. "Remember how much we hated each other, for reasons that had little to do with us."

"I thought I wanted you dead because you hadn't shaken my hand, but then when they brought you to the manor, all beaten up- For people who hated each other, we ended up helping each other plenty." History. Their lives would be forever shaped from what they had gone through in school. "He was worried that I was getting involved because of you. Pansy said the same. I even started to question it, but what we shared- It was understanding. We both had a destiny that we had to fulfil, things that people expected us to do regardless of what we wanted." Draco finally looked at Harry. "I'm glad you won."

"We all won," Harry answered, seriously. "You know, I once told Ginny that for everything I've shared with Ron and Hermione, there are things that only you understood, so I guess you're right, but I'm not worried about the past. I care about the future. I care about my children being happy and safe."

"Now we're getting to the warnings and threats; that's more like it. Don't worry, Potter. I won't hurt him," Draco said, "but you know that this isn't some fairy tale. He's young and handsome. He'll move on soon enough."

"Are you a masochist? Actually don't answer that. I already know," Harry said with a chuckle. "I know you won't believe me, but Jamie might just surprise you. He truly is a Weasley. Ginny knew that we'd be together when she was ten. We're still together."

"We'll see." Draco would not argue about the future, not when he was certain that it was only a matter of time before James would find someone else. Instead there were more pressing matters that they should be discussing. "What's the official word from France?"

"Ah, I was wondering how long it would take you to ask." Harry sighed. "French ministry is saying that the three attacks on Muggleborns are isolated events."

"Bollocks," Draco answered. "Astoria tells me that there have been a lot more attacks than the three we know about. They haven't been connected because they didn't leave their calling card. They were building up the courage to cast a Dark mark over their victims." It looked too much like the old one for Draco's liking, but he doubted any Death Eater was involved. The few that had escaped would not have waited this long if they wanted to start a new war. "They've had a spike in Muggleborns, which no one can explain, although the purebloods suspect that it's the Ministry's doing. The Muggleborns are afraid for their lives. The half-bloods are caught in the middle. Everyone is paranoid and the ministry is downplaying the situation." 

"Ministries are always hiding the fact that they don't know how to cope, but they reached out to us. Ron and I are going to Paris in a few days, speak with the Head of the French Aurors, see what we can do to prepare them," Harry said.

"Do me a favour, Potter, and don't get yourself killed while there."

"Aww, Malfoy, you care," Harry teased.

"About you? Of course not," Draco answered without missing a beat. "About me? Quite a lot. You get yourself killed and then someone will get ideas of pureblood supremacy and we'll have another war on our hands. Once was enough for me."

Harry looked through the window to the people still sitting in his living room. "Some have gone through it twice."

"And most of them didn't live to tell the tale. I'd rather not take that chance," Draco responded.

"Since your well-being is paramount, I will do my best to stay alive." 

Draco smiled at that. "You've finally learned what's important in life." Now if the rest of their lives could be as simple, he'd be a happy man. "The team was invited to Paris for a friendly. I politely declined."

"That's smart. You have two Muggleborns, Jamie and you as the owner. It's like asking to be attacked," Harry said.

"That was my thinking as well." He nodded toward the sky. "Does Albus know?"

"Just what's in the papers. How about Scorpius?"

Draco shook his head. "I don't want him to worry about his mother and he's been too busy to visit her. I'll speak to him if they decide to go there, though. Both of them should know. Is that agreeable with you?"

"Of course, I don't want them to be unprepared, but I don't want their lives to turn into ours either."

Draco's answer was cut off by James, who was flying over their heads. "Hey, Scorpius and Albus just got called to St. Mungo's. We need two seekers."

And just like that Draco felt the same urge to throttle the son as he used to have with the father. He gritted his teeth. "I don't have a broom," he hissed.

"Dad has tons, he can give you one," James said with a grin.

"I'm going to kill him," he murmured so softly that only Harry heard him.

Harry laughed at that. "He does have that effect on people. C'mon, it won't be that bad. Just like old times."

Draco snorted. "Not sure that's a good thing, Potter." However, he couldn't refuse when everyone was staring at him. In the end, they were up in the sky, circling each other and continuing their conversation while the youngsters kept playing rather viciously. By the time the snitch appeared, they had discussed the Minister, reforms, Paris, the international community and Quidditch, among other things. Unlike old times though, Draco ended up catching the snitch.

"Harry, how could you?" Ron asked as they landed.

Draco didn't hear the answer, because James landed next to him, an arm over Draco's shoulder and said, "You caught the snitch."

"Correction: your father let me catch the snitch." Draco saw the confused look on James' face. "Your father still plays, while I haven't played in decades. I couldn't even beat him when I was training. There was no way that I was getting there before him. He wasn't distracted at all. He pretended to be."

"Why would Dad do that? He hates to lose," James said.

"Your father and I have tried to mend our past through the years. This is another olive branch since he knows about us. At least that would be my guess." Draco was rarely wrong when it came to Harry's motivations. 

"Did you tell him?" James asked wary. He hadn't been ready to tell his parents

"No, but he is a lot more perceptive that I gave him credit for. He guessed, we talked, we're both hex-free. I don't think he'll tell anyone if that helps."

James nodded. "Then we can call it a win, and now I win even more, because I get to open all of the presents."

* * *

_Bang_

Ginny was startled awake by the noise downstairs. She reached next to her and touched Harry without speaking. The war had ended long ago, but you didn't live with the Head of the Aurors and not know about security. They always knew where their children were (Lily was sleeping, Albus at St. Mungo's and Jamie at home). They knew when noises would be normal and when not. Tonight they were not. 

Harry was already up and had grabbed his wand. "Stay here," he whispered. He Apparated to the living room and walked slowly toward the source of the noise, but with each step he relaxed. No criminal would have the kitchen light on or bang cabinets. It was not hard to deduce which of his children would be making a ruckus considering that Lily was asleep and Albus was working. "Jamie, what are you doing here?" he asked, patiently.

James turned around and grinned. "I finished the firewhiskey at home. Can't find more in here."

Harry groaned. "If you're looking inside the oven for a bottle, you've definitely had enough." He went to his son and guided him to a chair. "I'll make you some coffee." And he'd slip a potion to sober him up. "To what do we owe this visit?"

"Told you. I haven't got any more firewhiskey," Jamie repeated with a pout.

"Yes, but why do you need the firewhiskey?" Harry asked patiently as he waited next to the stove.

"Draco," James murmured. "He never showed up. We can only meet on some days, because of our family, his family, Quidditch, blah blah blah. Always excuses and when we can meet, he doesn't show up."

Harry couldn't believe what he was about to do. He was about to take Draco's side with his son. The things he did for his children! "How long have you been dating? Six weeks now? Has he ever not shown up to a date? Maybe he's busy. Did you try firecalling him?"

James shook his head. "He's been weird lately."

Harry snorted. "Lately? Do you remember we're talking about Malfoy, right? He's been strange since he was a child." He poured the coffee in a mug. He also knew that Ginny kept the Sober-Up potion next to the sugar, because she was an amazing mother and had dealt with too many drunken nights already. Sugar, potion and milk to cover up the taste were added to the coffee and he handed the mug to James. "Maybe you should just firecall him."

"Who are we firecalling?" Ginny said as she came down the stairs. Harry raised his eyebrows in her direction. "When you didn't come back up, I knew I either had to save your arse or it was safe. Hello, love," she added as she kissed James' head. "And again, who are we firecalling?"

"Jamie was stood up," Harry said instead.

"Ah." Ginny across the table James. "You don't usually get your pants in a twist over a bloke. In fact, I'm not sure you remember their names. And when did you start shagging wizards?"

"I'm not. I mean I am, but it's not blokes, it's one bloke, and it's not a shag. I think I love him," James blurted out.

"Dear Merlin, please drink your coffee before you say something you'll regret," Harry said, hoping for that potion to clear James' head sooner rather than later.

"Love?" Ginny looked at James and then at Harry. "Why didn't you tell me he was seeing Malfoy?"

James spit the coffee all over the table and looked at his mother. "How did you know?"

Ginny laughed. "Seriously? Jamie, darling, you have stars in your eyes and little hearts over your head every time he's around. In fact, you're lucky no one has actually cast little hearts there. If that weren't enough, you invited him to your birthday party, the one for the family only. Your dad talked to him and then he lets Malfoy get the snitch. I'm not stupid. Now stop staring with your mouth open and keep drinking your coffee. Actually no, how long has it been? And why haven't you told me, Harry?"

"That was for him to share," Harry said, "and only six weeks. Besides, I guessed. You always say that you're more perceptive than me."

"Darling, do be careful. I might carry your name, but I'm still a Weasley," she said with a sweet smile that was worse than a threat. "Back to you, young man, what's going on with Malfoy?"

James took a sip, before sighing. "Nothing, absolutely bloody nothing. He doesn't want to be with me."

"Because he's been _weird_ lately," Harry helpfully supplied.

Ginny bit his lip, trying not to laugh. "Malfoy, strange? Shocking. Jamie, love, Malfoy is an adult. Have you considered that maybe he has problems that he would rather not discuss with you?"

"Are you saying that I'm not an adult?" James asked.

"From the noise you've been making, you're worse than a toddler in Uncle George's shop," Lily said as she came into the kitchen. She yawned, before reaching for the coffee. "Why is he waking me up in the middle of the night?"

"He got stood up by Malfoy," Ginny answered, earning a giggle from Lily.

"Mum!"

Ginny snorted. "Don't 'Mum' me. Who do you think came up with the idea of casting little hearts over your head? And who had to stop her?"

"Wait! You mean you're serious?" Lily asked, suddenly alert. "He's finally got into Mr. Malfoy's p- Never mind that- Why are you here? Why aren't you at the manor?"

"Why would I be there?" James asked, confused.

"Albus called this evening. He was leaving St. Mungo's early to be with Scorpius. They are at the manor now. Lucius Malfoy is dying," Lily informed her family.

"Are you sure?" James asked.

"No, I make up people dying all the time. Of course, I'm sure." She shook her head. "You're pants at relationships. I'm getting dressed and we're going to the manor. To support Scorpius."

"Finish your coffee in the meantime," Harry suggested. "You might not want to be drunk when you show up there or Malfoy will hex you."

* * *

"Why are you here?" Albus whispered when he saw his siblings step into Lucius Malfoy's room. He and Scorpius were staying back while the Healer was attending Lucius. Narcissa was sitting at his side while Draco was standing next to her. Albus would make sure that Lily and James didn't upset the Malfoys tonight.

"We wanted to be here for Scorpius and you," Lily said with her sweetest voice. Albus didn't buy it for a moment, but there was little he could say. "How is he?"

"He's dying," Scorpius snapped, before closing his eyes. "I apologise. The Healer is casting spells to make him comfortable, but he's delirious and close to the end. There's nothing we can do at this point"

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "We truly wanted to be here for your family, but if you'd rather be alone, we understand."

"No, it's fine. It's not like anyone else will care," Scorpius said, bitterly.

"We do," James said, while he watched Lucius hold his wife's hand. It was surreal to watch Draco with his parents. Draco had always seemed larger than life and completely in control, but with his parents he seemed lost, sad and so very human.

"You do what you must," Lucius said at that moment. "I know you will, and Draco?"

"Yes, Father?" 

"You take care of your mother and make the Dark Lord proud," Lucius said.

Draco closed his eyes and when he reopened them, he nodded. "Of course, Father. You rest and I'll take care of things."

"I love you, Cissa." They were the last words Lucius Malfoy spoke before closing his eyes for the last time. 

"My condolences, Mrs. Malfoy," the Healer said. 

"Thank you," she answered, without looking up from her husband.

"I'll be arranging for the body-"

"He is my husband, not a body," Narcissa said.

"Yes, of course, my apologies. I'll make arrangements for your family," the Healer replies.

"Thank you," Draco said. "We appreciate your help. Scorpius, could you please show Mr. Wainscott out." He waited until everyone else was out of the room to turn to his mother. "You don't have to stay. I can stay with him."

Narcissa's expression softened as she looked up at her son. "No, I'd rather stay, and you've dealt with enough the past few days. I know it's been hard on you, but he didn't know what he was saying."

"He was delusion and thought we were fighting a war. I understand," Draco answered.

Narcissa squeezed his hand. "Understanding doesn't make it hurt less, my darling. Now, go take care of your son. That's where you are supposed to be. I'll stay here."

"All right." He kissed her cheek. "I'll have the house elves bring you tea."

"Thank you, darling."

In the dark hallway not too far from the bedroom, there was a very different discussion taking place. "Why are you really here?"

"We told you," Lily answered.

"Your sister should have been sorted into Slytherin," Scorpius said. They had gone through three rounds of the same questions already and the oldest Potter had stayed uncharacteristically quiet. "James, why are you here?"

"She told you," James answered with a sigh.

"Right, that she did, but we don't believe her and your inability to lie has caused Gryffindor to lose enough points to keep us entertained through the years, so why don't you tell us?" Scorpius answered with a saccharine smile.

Draco found them just as Scorpius asked the question. The night might have been a disaster, with his father reliving most of his seventh year, but at least his timing was impeccable. "James, Ms. Potter, it is good of you to come."

"We came as soon as we found out." The accusation was so clear in James' voice that everyone picked up on it.

"It was private." Draco refused to back down. His past few weeks had brought up memories that he kept tightly locked up, memories that he didn't want to share with anyone, especially James.

"Private?" James snorted. "And here I thought we were friends."

Lily grabbed his arms. "You have to excuse my brother. He was drinking before we came and apparently, he's still on the tipsy side, because otherwise he'd know better than to speak."

Draco chuckled despite the loss he was feeling. "No, he wouldn't." He took a deep breath and turned to Scorpius. "Are you all right?"

Scorpius moved closer and hugged his father. "I'm worried about you."

Draco held him tight. He wasn't sure the last time they had shown affection in front of people, although he suspected it was during Scorpius' early years at Hogwarts. "I'm your father. It's my job to worry about you and not vice versa, but I'm fine."

Scorpius pulled back and looked at his father. "I want to believe you, but I know better."

"You do not." The truth didn't matter. Draco would lie and reassure his son as much as he had to. "Now, it's time for you to get some rest. The next few days will be rather busy."

"What about you?" Scorpius asked.

"I will as soon as I've owled the Daily Prophet with the proper announcement for the funeral." He'd have to make a statement as well. This would take much longer than a few minutes, but he wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. "Albus, the guest room is ready. If you two would like to stay-"

"Unfortunately I can't stay. I have previous engagements in the morning," Lily said.

"I'll stay," James said. "They've been up since the crack of dawn, Lily has to go and you shouldn't be alone. We can save ourselves some time. We can assume that all four of you have told me why that's a bad idea. We can further assume that I am stubborn and have ignored everyone and this way we can sleep much sooner."

"Or you can assume that I'm too tired to care about what you do," Albus answered, grinning. "Come on, Scorpius, let's walk Lily out and we can get some sleep." The three made their way down the hallway and to the stairs, while Draco and James watched them go. 

"Let go somewhere private. Your room should do nicely since I'm not going anywhere." Concern for Draco and anger for the recent lies warred inside James and he needed to talk and now. Draco seemed to sense that or maybe he wanted to avoid another outburst where people could hear, and soon they found their way to Draco's bedroom. 

This was the first time that James had seen the room. He wasn't sure what he expected, maybe a lot of serpents like at Grimmauld Place, but this was completely different. The floors had marble tiles covered in Persian rugs that looked too expensive to ever walk on them. There was a fire going in the large fireplace and a large cream-coloured leather couch was placed in front of it. On the far side of the room, there was a round table and two armchairs standing by the window. The heavy red silk curtains matched the colour of the armchairs. The rest of the furniture was a deep red mahogany, including the bed which was covered by a quilt in a delicate cream shade. "There's no green in here."

"Very observant of you," Draco answered. "Do you wish to discuss my bedroom decor or is there another reason why you wanted to stay behind?"

"If you're trying to piss me off, don't bother. You've already done a great job at that," James said. "I can't believe you didn't tell me anything. Your father was sick, dying and you think that it's _private_. Six weeks with secret dates and too many rounds of twenty questions after sex and you decide that this is something you can forget to mention? What's wrong-" He stopped abruptly and rubbed his head.. James had a way to let the Weasley temper take over, but it was hard to sustain when Draco looked so miserable. He approached Draco and pressed their foreheads together, while he wrapped his arms around his lover. "Sorry. I am truly sorry about your father. I know how much you care about him."

"I couldn't tell you. The past weeks-" Draco closed his eyes tight, trying not to think about his father's death, about reliving the war, about the nightmares he still had. "I have things that need to be done. I can't think about what has happened just yet."

"Okay." The agreement surprised both men. James wasn't the patient one, but he understood grief. He watched it in his relatives' faces every time Uncle Fred was mentioned. "We'll talk later, but you _will_ tell me what's been going on for the past few weeks. We can't be together if you keep hiding the important things. My Mum thinks that I'm some lad you're indulging."

"Your Mum?" Draco asked sharply.

James winced. "Sorry, it's just… they guessed, both Mum and Lily. I just said that I got stood up and they knew. I'm sorry."

"Bloody Gryffindors." The words held no bitterness for once. "I guess I knew what I was getting myself into. Now, as much as I'd love to continue this conversation-"

"No, you wouldn't," James answered, smiling.

"Slytherins know how to be polite. Still, I have things to take care of." Too many things that Draco didn't want to do, but were his responsibility. 

"Fine, but I'm staying with you until you get some sleep." 

James stayed well until the morning, hoping that the house elves would keep their secret.

* * *

Lucius' funeral was a small affair held at the manor. Andromeda, Teddy and Victoire were in attendance. The press had been banned. The rest of the chairs in front of the pyre were filled mostly by the team's players and staff and a few friends of Narcissa and Draco. At the back, standing through the entire ceremony were two very surprising visitors: Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.

"I can't believe I'm here for Lucius Malfoy's funeral," Ron murmured as the funeral ended and everyone began to stand.

"We're doing our job," Harry said. "We're also here for Malfoy."

Ron snorted. "Since we're such good mates."

"Well, then we're doing it so you can see the entire Cannon team in one place and can ask for autographs," Harry said with an amused smile on his face. "Wait, you did that after Jamie's first game, did you not?"

"You're a sadist, mate. You know what Hermione did after that," Ron mumbled.

"You did leave her alone at the restaurant on your anniversary. She had every right to be upset." Harry still didn't understand women, but he knew that birthdays and anniversaries were important. Ginny told him all the other things that he needed to know.

"We'll be here for ages. Every player is going up to offer their condolences."

"Sure, change the subject." Harry kept looking at the people present while he talked. Like it or not, they had a few questions to ask Malfoy and his mother, and while this might not have been the most opportune time, he had already heard from Andromeda that the two sisters were about to leave Great Britain for an extended vacation. "Do you think she knows about another war brewing?"

"I can't imagine her leaving her son," Ron answered. "Murdering lot, the entire family, but they care for each other."

"We'll see soon enough." They waited until only Harry's children were standing with the family. Harry was the first to speak up. "Our condolences."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter. Lucius would have appreciated your presence. Yours too, Mr. Weasley." They all knew that it was a lie. Lucius Malfoy had resented and despised Harry even while Harry had testified on their behalf and he still hated the Weasleys, but he was dead now and the truth wouldn't do anyone any good.

"I am sorry to have to ask you this, but do you think that it was a natural death?" Harry asked.

James was the first to speak. "How can you ask them that?"

"James, it's fine," Draco said, before his mother could start a battle of words. "Your father is doing his job, although I'm sure that we didn't need the Head of the Aurors to come and ask the questions." Potter could have sent anyone, but his presence ensured that they would be civil. "To answer you, it was a natural death. The years in Azkaban coupled with the high exposure to painful hexes-"

"The Cruciatus?"

"What else would you expect from the Dark Lord, Weasley? A hitching jinx?" Draco's fingers tightened, thinking about grabbing his wand and hexing the bloody idiot, but then took a deep breath and let it go. "As I was saying, his body was too taxed by the abuse taken. It simply shut down. Wainscott was the attending Healer. He can answer any questions you might have. Albus and Scorpius were also present and they can assuage any fears you have."

Harry looked at Narcissa. "And this trip of yours has nothing to do-"

"My husband has just died. My sister is a widow. We spend decades without talking to each other and now we're trying to catch up before it's too late, Mr. Potter," Narcissa said. "If you are asking me whether we have heard anything about the trouble in France, then the answer is no. We are not involved nor would anyone trust us to be involved. We are considered traitors just as much as Mr. Weasley's family is. Draco might have a few of his friends left, but most of them disappeared during the trials. With time, they have resumed talking to us, because it wouldn't do for a Slytherin to avoid the family that protected the Chosen One, but they are hardly friends as their lack of presence at this funeral would prove. Does this answer all the questions you were awkwardly trying to pose?"

Harry cleared his throat. "Yes, Madam. Thank you for your time, and again, we're very sorry for your loss." They had their answer and they could leave the family to grieve, just like they had done in so many other cases. It was strange to see his own children comfort the grieving family this time.

* * *

Draco was back at work, playing catch-up with all the things he had missed. He'd only taken a week after his father's death and his office looked like someone had played 'catch the ball' with a dragon. Part of the problem was that he was a perfectionist and looked at every piece of correspondence the team got, even though Tracey did an amazing job dividing it by importance. Today's largest pile was from people who simply had to share just how much they despised his father even though they loved him for what he'd done with the team. The power of sports. He thought that he was losing his mind when he started to see lights that talked, and then he realised that he was staring at a Patronus, one that talked. For all of his abilities, he could barely get a corporeal one.

He was so focused on the unfairness of it all that he almost missed the message. The words 'Harry Potter' made him focus again. Luckily, the Patronus repeated the message. Draco didn't have to wait for the end a second time. Instead he Apparated to the Quidditch pitch and spoke with the coach who called for James.

James made his way down from the sky. He was smiling and joking with his teammates on the way down, but as soon as he saw Draco's face, he grew serious. "What happened?"

Draco grabbed James' arm and Apparated to the infirmary. It was the only room with an open Floo to St. Mungo's. He didn't give James an explanation, not where people could overhear him. Instead, he dragged the young man through the hospital until they reached the area reserved for Aurors and Hit Wizards.

The ward had taken a whole floor right after the war, but with time, it shrank down until it was only a big room with six bed. The beds were usually empty now that the Dark wizards were jailed or dead. Today, the room was guarded by two very serious Aurors. 

"Dad? Uncle Ron?" James asked in a panic.

"It's your father," Draco whispered. "I don't know the details, just that it's serious and your mother wanted you here immediately."

"Only family," one Auror said, glaring at Draco.

Draco ignored the Auror. The order and tone were hardly surprising, especially after spending a morning reading owls about how horrible his father had been. What he hadn't expected was James' answer.

"He's with me and if you even think of stopping him, I will ensure that you stand guard for the rest of your bloody career." Gone was the carefree player, ready to joke with teammates and fans, replaced by a very arrogant and self-assured man who understood the power his name held. 

Draco was impressed and his smirk showed it. He was also keeping his wand close in case the Aurors did try to stop him, but he was able to follow James inside without a problem. The doors closed behind them and Draco took a look at the room. Albus was standing on one side of the bed with Scorpius and Lily while Ginny sat on the other side. It was a little too reminiscent of the last days he had spent with his father. Of course, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were not part of his memories.

"What is he doing here?" Weasley blurted out.

"I asked him to bring Jamie here," Ginny said, standing up. "Your father is being an obstinate knarl and won't listen to the Healers. He refuses to follow their recommendation until he speaks to you, both of you."

Draco frowned and looked at Scorpius. He could see the urgency in his son's face and decided that one person could answer this faster. "Potter, have you lost your mind?"

"Jamie?"

James scurried over and grabbed Harry's hand. "I'm here, Dad. What's wrong?"

"Don't play on Sunday. Lily promised. You need-"

"Yes, Dad. Don't worry about Quidditch, just let them fix you."

"Malfoy."

Draco rolled his eyes as he stepped closer. Potter was still the biggest drama queen around apparently. "Sure, he won't play."

"It was dark magic. They came after me," Harry said, his words coming out between harsh breaths. "Keep them safe."

Draco nodded. "Your family can stay with me until you're better. They'll be safe." Except none of them would be safe if Potter died. "What did they cast? Did you hear?"

"Not… not sure, sounded like _aneurusma_ , maybe, yellow light."

"Never heard of it, but I'll see what I can find. Now can they do whatever they have to do before Weasley has a fit?"

Harry smiled weakly and nodded.

"Scorpius." Draco looked at his son and then at Albus, who was clearly shaken. "Let him do this for you." There was a brief nod and then Scorpius cast a spell. 

"What did you do?" James asked.

"Your father's body is deteriorating at a very fast rate. We don't know what hex they cast, but it's destroying his major organs," Scorpius explained. "The spell I cast is similar to a stunning spell, but his body is frozen and so is the damage. He will stay unconscious until we can find a cure for him."

"Except that we can't keep him like this forever," Albus added, "or he'll end up dying anyway."

"He's not going to die," Weasley said.

"How long do we have?" Draco asked.

"The longest successful use of the spell is ten days," Scorpius answered.

"All right, ten days to find a dark curse we never heard of and with an incantation we don't know for sure." Draco wanted this year to end right now, because it was starting to feel like 1997 all over again, but instead he focused on the problem at hand. "James, why don't you go home and get your things? Ms. Potter, please do the same. Albus, your room will be ready as usual. Mrs. Potter, I would ask that you join your children as well."

"Thank you, but there's no need. I'll stay here with my husband. Someone has to watch his back while he's unconscious. I trust the Aurors, but I trust my wand more," Ginny answered. "But thank you for taking care of my children."

Ron groaned. "What in Merlin's balls is happening here? We don't need him. They can come to our home."

"I told Potter that I would help, and I will. If you have a problem-"

"Of course I have a problem. Dark magic is starting up, your father might or might not have died naturally, now Harry is attacked and you're suddenly around."

"If you are implying-"

"ENOUGH!" Ginny looked at the two men. "Ron, Harry wanted Malfoy's help. He waited for him to get here, risking his life to talk to him. He trusts Malfoy to help and I know you want to help, but you have your own children to worry about. If they went after Harry, there's a very good chance they could go after you or your family."

"She's right, Ron," Hermione said. "We need to inform everyone in the family. It would be good to be careful until we know more."

"And besides." Draco stopped when everyone's eyes turned on him. He shouldn't be part of a family discussion and yet he had been sucked into this family once again. He'd hex James once this was done. For now, he tried to look calm as he went on. "I reckon your wife is still much better than you when it comes to research and not many places would have the type of information we need."

"You mean illegal books," Ron said.

Draco shrugged. "I do not believe that books should ever be illegal. Knowledge is never evil. It's what you do with that knowledge that can be evil. To answer your question, books that might not be found elsewhere, books that might have the solution, books that would require a substantial amount of time to acquire if you don't already have them. You and your family are welcome to join us at the manor. Your wife and I can go through my books a lot quicker together than if I did it alone. Scorpius and Albus can help as well."

"We should call Bill as well," Hermione said. "Ron, sent a patronus to everyone, get the kids and meet me at Malfoy manor. I'll go with Malfoy."

"Right, I'll let the house elves know to expect company." They'd have to lock up most of the portraits to ensure that no one would know about the Weasley invasion, but stopping a new wave of Dark wizards was worth a little extra work.

* * *

A sea of redheads were currently occupying the Malfoy library. When he had extended the invitation, Draco hadn't expected four of the five brothers to show up with their wives (Charlie was still in Romania) and respective children. Teddy had arrived with his family as well. Books were carefully divided into books safe for Muggleborns and half-bloods and those only purebloods could touch. Draco even cast warning spells in case anyone without a pureblood lineage got too close to the table, because he would not be held responsible for killing one of them.

They were spread in groups. The younger generation seem to prefer floors and pillows. Percy and his wife had appropriated a table, but they were soon joined by George, Angelina and Bill. Fleur was currently playing with little Remus. James was sitting on the couch next to Draco while Hermione and Ron had settle an armchair each.

They worked through the books for three days straight, taking breaks for food and sleep, but they hadn't found anything that mimicked Potter's symptoms or that sounded like the spell Potter had mentioned.

"We're wasting our time," Ron said with a sigh.

Hermione tied her hair up and looked back to the book she was reading. "I know that you hate research, but we must do it. We simply must, Ron." 

"Your husband is right," Draco said, surprised by his own words. From the way Ron's book fell from his hands and hit the ground, he wasn't the only one surprised. 

"Are you giving up?" James accused.

"Of course not, but we've been looking for three days. We have cast spells to find the word your father's heard with no result. We've asked the portraits of three Headmasters: Dumbledore, Severus and Phineas Black. They have consulted with the portraits of the other Headmasters and none of them have ever heard about this spell." Draco knew what he had to do, but he hated the very idea. It went against every defence mechanism that he'd built after the war.

"What are you suggesting, Malfoy?" Hermione asked.

"That we ask a woman who lived and breathed the Dark Arts." He got up and went to the table, before returning with ink and a quill. He also had a book open with a depiction of the dark mark. He sat back down and carefully raised the sleeve of his robe. "One of you needs to draw this on me."

"You're barking mad. You've finally lost all of your marbles; that's what's happening," Ron said.

James put a hand on Draco's back and looked at him with a tiny frown on his face. "You don't want to do this."

Draco turned his head and met James' eyes. He regretted not telling James about his father and the feelings his death had brought up, but now, surrounded by James' family, Draco couldn't even touch him. This brief moment was all that they had and explanations were left for later. "You're very right about that, but what I want is irrelevant at the moment. There's one person who can help: my Aunt Bella. We have a portrait, her only portrait. She can't go anywhere, but my mother likes to talk to her on occasion. If I can convince her that He's back, present it the right way, she'll help. We have to do this."

"We could cast a spell to make it precise," Ron suggested.

Draco's head snapped in Ron's direction. If he could cast hexes with his eyes, Ron would be dead. "You try that and I _will_ hurt you."

"He doesn't mean an actual mark," James rushed to say.

"I do not care. I will not be branded again. A drawing is as close as it's going to get to the real thing. The room is dark and it's a portrait. A drawing will have to do."

An arm went around Draco's waist. James didn't care about who was watching anymore, although everyone was more worried about books at the moment. Still Draco pulled away discreetly just as he looked over at Scorpius. James pushed down the hurt and kept going, "Thank you," he said softly. "I know how hard this is for you."

 _You have no idea_ , Draco thought, but he nodded. "I said I'll help. Weasley, do carry on. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can find a cure."

Ron took up the quill, and started drawing the mark. After three attempts, much cursing and even more bickering, they gave up on the idea of Ron drawing anything. Instead, the young Louis used his artistic talents to draw a perfect copy of the mark, so perfect that Draco was shivering at the sight. "This should do," he said, his voice shaking a little. "Let's see what we can find out."

* * *

Scorpius slammed another book closed. Impatience wasn't in his nature, but he was tired of being in this library with so many people. He loved Albus and his family, but he was not used to having _all_ of them in his house, especially when his father had turned into some Gryffindor wannabe, rushing off to see his Aunt's portrait after avoiding it since the war. 

And all for Jamie!

Sure, they were all pretending not to see the touches and whispers. Eyes turned the other way when James got a little too close to his father. Conversations started to give them some privacy. Scorpius hadn't needed to witness any of that to know that the two were together. For weeks, his father's clothes had smelled like that woody rich cologne Jamie wore all the bloody time. Once might have been a coincidence, but Scorpius had come to terms with the idea that Jamie had finally got what he'd wanted since they were in school. He was all right with it, too, as long as his father didn't do something foolish like all these Gryffindors would do.

"You all right, there, mate?" Albus asked.

"All right? Of course. Why would I not be? My father is working himself silly, talking to our crazy relative, pretending to be marked, all because of your brother. I'm perfect," Scorpius said.

Albus grinned. "Yeah, perfectly bonkers, that's what you are." He looked up at his brother who was pacing like a caged animal. "You're still doing better than him, though."

"I can hardly be worse than your brother. I thought we decided that he was clinically insane while studying effects spells can have on your minds in our first year at St. Mungo's?"

"I thought we decided that during our first year at Hogwarts, when he tried to pull me out from the Slytherin common room?" Albus said, chuckling. "Seriously, though, are you okay with them?"

Scorpius shrugged. "I suppose. For a little while, before my grandfather got sick, my father was happy, really happy, and not worrying about me or my grandparents. If it's because of Jamie, then I'm okay with it, although it's really strange."

"Even stranger is that they are shagging and he's the only one who calls my brother 'James'."

Scorpius groaned. "Thank you so much for putting things into prospective."

"That's what friends are for," Albus replied with a smug smile.

"You keep going, I'll hex you so that you'll fall asleep any time Healer Princemot speaks," Scorpius warned.

Albus snorted. "Like that doesn't happen anyway. He's so bloody boring." He looked at his friend. "So what is wrong with you?"

"My father- he doesn't talk to Aunt Bella's portrait. He did once, they were painting the room where we keep her portrait and moved her temporarily. He walked by the portrait and she talked to him. He never told us what she said, but he locked himself in his room for a week. I was six, but I still remember the haunted look he had even after. I don't like this," he said shaking his head. 

Lily slid over the floor and got closer to the two young men. "Did you find a cure? If not, why are you doing nothing?"

"We're not doing nothing," Albus answered, saving Scorpius from having to tell a lie about what they were discussing. "We're deciding if we should tell Jamie that we all know."

Lily giggled. "We should start a pool to see how long it takes him to realise it that it's common knowledge."

"If Draco isn't back soon, in about five minutes," Albus said as he looked up at Jamie again, "because he's losing it and then he'll tell everyone like it's a big mystery."

"I don't know how he can lie so well with the press and be absolutely transparent at home," Scorpius said, shaking his head.

"At least he can lie with the press. Can you imagine otherwise?" Lily said, horrified.

"I'd rather not-" 

Scorpius was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a house elf, who was trembling. "Sorry to be bothering you, but Master Draco-"

"What happened to my father?" Scorpius said, standing up.

"Fibby doesn't know. Not for sure. Master Draco goes to his room, he locks doors. He be-" The house elf looked around at the many faces staring at him. "Master Draco not well."

"I'll go," James said.

"No, he's my father, if he needs help-" Scorpius started. 

"He'll get the help," James said. "If my father were sick, he wouldn't want us to see him. Let me see what's wrong and I'll send the house elf if your dad needs you." 

The two stared at each other for a few seconds, before Scorpius spoke up. "You'll better take care of him or I will hex your bollocks off and feed them to you."

James chuckled. "Very direct for a Slytherin, but unnecessary. I… care about him. I'll make sure he's all right."

"Five minutes were too generous," Albus muttered, which made Lily giggle again.

Scorpius ignored Albus and Lily. James couldn't be distracted now. He needed to help his father. They could make fun of him later. "Fibby will show you the way."

* * *

The house elf magically skipped through the hallways and James had to run to keep up. Once they reached Draco's room, the question to knock or not was solved when the door opened. James rushed inside calling Draco's name. There wasn't any answer but he could hear the water running in the en suite bathroom.

The sight made him curse under his breath. Draco was standing by the sink, washing off a mark that had long disappeared. His arm was scraped and bruised and droplets of blood stained the porcelain skin, but Draco continued to rub it with maniacal speed. James grabbed his wrists, forcing him to stop. 

"It's gone. Draco, the mark is gone. You need to stop before you hurt yourself." He kept repeating it over and over, until he felt Draco relax and they were finally looking at each other. "It's really gone."

Draco seemed to wake up from a nightmare. His eyes still had trouble focusing, but after a moment. "I know… I think I have the cure, a potion. We should tell the others."

"Is it going to take seven days to make?" James asked.

Draco frowned. "No, of course not. Why?"

"Because then we have a few minutes." James let go only to hug Draco tight. "You scared the bloody hell out of me. We won't go anywhere until you tell me what's going on. Not later, not tomorrow, but right now." He held Draco's hand and led them out of the bathroom and into Draco's bedroom. He went straight for the couch. The fireplace was lit despite the fact that they were in May, but the room felt cold anyway. "Let me heal this for you, before it really scars."

"You don't have to baby me," Draco said as they settled on the couch.

"I'm not babying you, Draco. In fact, that's exactly what you've been doing with me, keeping things from me. You only tell me things if I ask a direct question and usually only after sex." James cast the healing spell and then looked up. "You're an adult, that's what Mum said, but you know, so am I. You can talk to me."

Draco shook his head. "But I can't and it's not because of our age difference, but because you've grown up in a different world, a world where war doesn't exist. You can't understand what the war did to us, what it did to me."

"Wanker! I'm this close to punching you. I'll skip the hexes and go straight for physical violence. Maybe that will knock some sense into you." James could never stay still when he got angry and he was up and pacing. "You think I don't know about the war? I might not have lived through it. I didn't go through what you and the others did, but I know more than you think. I see the way my grandmother's eyes go watery every time someone mentions an uncle who died before I was born. I know that Uncle George gets pissed on his birthday, far away from his family and doesn't return until he sobers up a few days later. I know that my grandmother trembles when anyone mentions the Dark Arts, because of what she did to your aunt. I know that while normal children learn about gnomes and fairies, we learned about emergency calls and how to hide if someone came after us. We were never normal children and we never knew when someone decided to go after my father or us. I know that even now, my parents keep constant track of where we are. Why do you think I always invited you to my flat? It was so much easier to tell them that I was home and not lie instead of explaining why I was here. Dad still talks about the ones that got away, what they could do, what we could face. So as you can see, I can understand bloody well what war does to you, because that war has never ended for my father and he thinks he's protecting us, but in part, he's teaching us to live his war, too. So now, talk."

"Where do I even start?"

"The beginning is usually a good place," James said as he sat down again.

Draco smile. "I suppose the beginning is Hogwarts. Your father was fighting that war from his first year, with people trying to kill him, but _I_ , oh I had the perfect life. Parents who loved me, students who wanted to be my friend, people who envied me, money. I hated that he was more famous, but I had a very easy and happy life, at least until my father was arrested. I came home from school to find Aunt Bella waiting for me. She was giddy with excitement. She didn't care that my father was in Azkaban; she cared that her nephew had been summoned by the Dark Lord. It was an honour as far as she was concerned; she never understood that it was a trap.

"She took me to see Him and I was given the job to kill Dumbledore. Failure meant my death and the death of my mother. I was terrified, because I knew that he never really thought I could do it. No one could do it. He had failed to do it plenty of times. Dumbledore was the most powerful wizard and no way a mere Sixth year would kill him. My parents and I were meant to die." Draco sighed. "I tried to tell Aunt Bella, but she wouldn't listen. Instead she started training me. I was great when I was learning at home. I knew spells and potions. I learned Occlumency and Legilimency. I was a brilliant student until it was time to get to the practical side of it and we learned pretty soon that I couldn't kill. Don't get me wrong, I was ready to hex someone who did something to me, but to kill in cold blood, to look into someone's eyes when they hadn't done anything and kill them? I couldn't do that. She was crushed. She told the Dark Lord. I spent the rest of the month feeling the pain of the Cruciatus more often than not, and I returned to school determined that I'd kill Dumbledore. Except I still couldn't do it directly, so I looked for other ways, failed miserably, almost killed your uncle and others in the process. The Vanishing cabinet that let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts was the only thing I did right according to Him."

"I remember the attack from my History book. They never mentioned you. They simply said that they found a way in," James said.

"A lot of details from the war never made it into the books. They would make the school too vulnerable. Between me and your family, you can learn more than any book could ever teach you." Draco welcomed the chance to stop, but it was a temporary pause. Now that he'd started, he had to tell James the entire story or he would never do it. "Returning home after my sixth year was even worse. Severus protected me, lied so that my mother and I wouldn't be killed. We could both occlude our thoughts well enough to stay alive, but not enough for me to escape punishment."

James put a hand on Draco's back and started drawing circles. Draco closed his eyes as he tilted closer to James, resting his head on his lover's shoulder. "He cast the Cruciatus on my mother. It was horrible. I'd been subjected to it, I'd watch others being subjected to it, but to stand there and watch my mother – my beautiful, loving mother shake from the pain, lose every semblance of dignity-" He opened his eyes again to vanish the image, but the past wouldn't be erased so easily. "That was the start of a year marked by pain. When it wasn't the Cruciatus, it was the mark. He really enjoyed watching you clutch at your arm, the searing pain so strong that you would have happily cut your arm off. He was eclectic when it came to inflicting painful hexes. On my father, it was always the Cruciatus, because He didn't think my father could be useful, but I was the future, He used to say. He couldn't destroy my brain, so He found other ways to punish me. School should have been a relief, but the Carrows were there and they would use the Dark arts on students all the time. Severus tried to protect me, but he could only do so much.

"It wasn't just that. I watched too many people being killed. A Hogwarts professor was killed right in this house. Lovegood and Ollivander lived in our dungeon. I used to go down and help them when I could. I hated going down there, because most of my more painful training had happened there, but I wanted to do what I could for them. Then Easter break came and they captured your father, Granger and Weasley. I knew I had to help him. If he died, we would all be dead, or just as good. I paid for that dearly. I thought I was going to die from the pain, but he believed that I was too incompetent to mislead Him on purpose. His arrogance kept me alive, but for days my mind was in a daze. My mother worried that it would be permanent. I improved somewhat, but I couldn't sleep, I couldn't walk into some rooms, I had nightmares those rare times I could sleep."

He stopped when he felt James' lips pressed against his. The warmth from the other man was so incongruous with the coldness that he felt inside. "You shouldn't have to listen to this," he whispered.

"I've wanted you for years. I've slowly fallen in love with you for the past few years. Your past makes you who you are today," James answered. "The fact that you are my boss isn't the problem you make it out to be, but you treating me like a child you need to protect from your past will prevent us from being equal. As you see, I should listen to all of this."

Draco twined his fingers with James and squeezed gently. "I never wanted to tell you, because I've done my best to pretend that it never happened. After the war, my mother immediately convinced my father to help the Aurors. She knew that was the only way to improve our situation. We didn't know then that your father would testify for us. My father went along, but he never forgave me for all of that, because it was easier to be upset with me than my mother. He wasn't the only one that was upset. The people on your father's side hated us for being free. The people who'd sat on their arses during the war blamed us for not having the luxury to stay neutral. The Death Eaters despised us for being blood traitors. It was so much easier to avoid people and pretend that it'd never happened.

"I took my NEWTs the next year. I spent most of that year avoiding everyone at school. After that, I didn't go out for almost two years. I would visit the few friends I had or they would come here. We also redecorated, tried to erase the memories of dead bodies and torture. It's why you won't find much green or snakes in this house," Draco explained. "Then I got married, had Scorpius. With time, I started going out again. I bought the team. I'll be forty-seven in a few days and I've spent the past twenty-nine years pretending that those two years never happened until my father got sick. He began living in the past. It started about six months ago. At the start, it happened sporadically, but as he neared his death, his mind was trapped during the war. Every comment, every warning was about Him or about killing Potter or about making the family proud. I don't know why I let it get to me, but the nightmares were back with a vengeance. I couldn't spend the night with you without waking you up."

"And then you would have had to explain," James said with a sigh. "Do you really think that not telling me about your dad was better than making me think that you didn't want to be with me anymore? Never mind that, now. I'm guessing, with your aunt, it was more of the same."

Draco nodded. "I told her He's back. I said that Scorpius was caught in the crossfire. I convinced her that He has my support, but first I have to cure my son. Luckily, the portrait doesn't know about what happened during the last battle or afterwards. We've been careful to keep her with portraits that have no counterparts outside these walls, no one who could tell her about what had happened. Mother did it because she still wanted the opportunity to speak with her sister and knew that Aunt Bella would never talk to her if she discovered what had transpired. It has worked in our favour."

"And we have a cure. I like the way your mother thinks." James brought their joined hands to his lips and kissed Draco's knuckles. "I want nothing more than to get you to bed and make love to you for days, but your son is probably waiting outside to make sure that you're all right and my father is still dying." He raised his eyes and met Draco's. "He knows. Scorpius I mean. Pretty sure they all know… maybe not Uncle Ron. He hasn't threatened me or you."

Draco stayed where he was, leaning against James' solid body. "I feel so tired that I'd like to sleep for days. The sex would have to wait for a while." James chuckled, but didn't disagree. "I certainly can't find the strength to care about your extended family knowing about us. Your parents have no problem with us. As long as Scorpius is fine with it, the rest I can easily ignore."

"I think he is," James said. "I mean that fact that he's Albus' best friend is the weirdest thing about us being a couple."

"I doubt that's the _weirdest_ thing," Draco said with a tiny smile.

"Until you realise that he'll be my step-son," James answered, laughing.

"Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?" Draco should be put off, but he'd learned that James lived life at full speed, never stopping and considering any problem that could prevent him from getting what he wanted. In a way, he was as spoiled as Draco had used to be.

"Nah, my Mum always says that she knew she'd marry Dad when she was ten," he said with a shrug. "They are still together."

"Your father said something similar, proving that both the Potters and the Weasleys are lunatics." It was the only explanation Draco could find. 

"Bitch, bitch, bitch." James leaned in and kissed Draco again. "Are you feeling better, though?"

"I don't know yet. We'll see if the nightmares come tonight." He had already poured his heart out, but words were cheap and this was the best way to erase the distance between them that he had created. The bright smile from James proved that he was right. "Can you ask Scorpius to come in? Then I need to see your uncles and Granger in my study. Just them, please."

"All right. Time to cure Dad."

* * *

Draco stayed behind to talk to his son. It was surprisingly how well Scorpius had taken it, but he'd assured Draco that as long as James made him happy, he was happy and if James did something stupid, then he would have an excuse to hex James. It seemed perfectly logical to Draco. Satisfied that his son had no objection to his new relationship, he went to find the Weasley elders.

"We seem to have a solution. A potion to be more precise," Draco said as he waltzed into his studio. 

"That's not possible." The deep voice of Severus Snape came from the large portrait behind Draco's desk at the same time that James asked, "Did everything go well with Scorpius?"

Draco nodded. "Aunt Bella assured me it is possible. She even made a crack about half-bloods not knowing what true wizards know. However, I know better than to trust her blindly." He handed James a parchment. He blinked when James kissed him in front of everyone, but after the momentary shock, he went on. "I've made a list of what we need. James, could you show it to Severus."

"Hello, Professor, it's good to see you." James approached the portrait with a big grin. He and Snape had argued plenty in school and James wasn't in the least intimidated.

"I hardly can say the same," Snape replied.

"Aww, we both know you love me."

"I believe I called you the scourge of Hogwarts, the worse combination of Potters and Weasley, a plague to be eradicated. I stand by my words." 

Draco snorted, but otherwise didn't correct Snape.

"This potion sounds brilliant, but can we focus on the important things? Like Jamie kissing Malfoy?" Bill said.

George didn't miss a bit. "In front of poor Ron. Did your heart stop beating, Ronniekin?"

"We have bigger problems at the moment," Ron said through gritted teeth. "Harry will put a stop to this madness once he's cured."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Weasley, but he knows and doesn't oppose it," Draco said, smugly. 

James could sense that his family was about to go off in a tangent and stepped into the discussion. "Mum knows too and she's fine with it, so are Albus, Lily and Scorpius, not that it's anyone's decision who I date, so let's go back to this potions."

Draco decided to take the follow James' lead and continued. "Right, the reason I've not mentioned what we need is because some of the ingredients are-"

"Illegal," said Ron.

"Dangerous," added George.

"Dark artefacts," finished Bill.

"Questionable," Draco said. "For that reason, I thought that we best not involved the children."

"He is one of the children," Percy pointed out.

Draco took a deep breath. The Weasley comedy show was starting to wear thin. "I also know that if I tell him to leave, he'll whinge and argue until he gets to stay anyway. In deference to my mental state and his father's health-"

"And your sex life."

"Jamie!" Draco said, shocked. 

"So this is what it takes for you to call me Jamie?" he said, laughing. "It's the reverse with my parents. They call me 'James' when they're angry."

"Can you not compare me to your parents after mentioning sex? In fact, stop talking right now so that we can concentrate on the potion. Severus, considering Potter's symptoms, do you think it's going to work?"

"I believe so, yes. The wench wasn't lying," Snape said with reluctance.

"Now, then, the potion is rather three potions in one and I could make it alone, it would take a considerable amount of time to obtain everything and prepare all three potions. We have an Auror and two ministry employees present. Considering the questionable ingredients, if you'd rather leave now, we would all understand."

"This is for Harry. We're all staying," said Ron without hesitation.

Draco nodded, expecting nothing else. "Weasley-"

"You might want to start with names or this will get really confusing," James said with a cheeky smile.

"Fine. George, I know your skills with potions are still superior than most. Severus rants often and loudly about those immature imbeciles imbibing concoctions without care for the consequences and how your store is the source of said concoctions." It was a rant that happened during every school year and Draco could recite it by heart.

"All true." Snape glared at the culprit from his spot in the portrait, but none of the people present were too impressed.

"I'll help you with making the potion. Percy, here, is still pretty good. Comes with being an uptight arse."

Percy glared at his brother. "And by that, you mean not being an irresponsible prat like you. I might not have your sadistic genius, but I can make a potion."

Draco decided that to make it through this discussion, he would ignore all the insults from the Weasleys and Snape and concentrate on what they had to do. He moved to the next point. "Perfect, now, we need a dragon heart."

"Which would be one of those questionable objects," murmured Ron.

Draco shrugged. "There are other dragon parts. Nothing illegal, other than the heart, but we need them fresh and we can't buy them from an apothecary nor can we wait for the ministry to clear the import of the ingredients. The heart is the big problem. Is your brother still in Romania?"

"Not sure how he'll feel about this. Charlie is very protective of his dragons," Bill said.

"And that's why we'll be sending James. Take Teddy with you," Draco said. He didn't trust James to pay attention to danger, but Teddy was an Auror and a good one. "Just don't tell him what we're doing and cry if you have to- with your Uncle."

"I'll convince him. I'll kill a bloody dragon myself if he says no," James answered.

Draco groaned. "Actually, forget about Teddy. Take Albus. He'll be able to be less of a-"

"Gryffindor?" Snape suggested.

"Yes, precisely," Draco responded.

"Probably best. Jamie is a terrible liar. Teddy would find out before they even get to Romania," Hermione pointed out.

"I've learned just how badly he can hide a secret," Draco said, shaking his head. He made a mental note to write to his mother as soon as this was over. He did not want her to learn about his relationship with James through Teddy and Aunt Andromeda. "Next step. We need the Stone of Giramphiel."

"That's just an Arthurian myth," Hermione said and every pair of eyes was suddenly on her.

"Why would you think that?" Draco asked confused.

"Muggles thinks it's all a myth," Ron said rolling his eyes.

"Can't say I'm well versed on what they think, however I do know that the stone is inside the Department of Mysteries. We do need it, but we can return it after we're done," Draco assured her. "You will need a curse breaker's help in getting it. The stone doesn't react well to being taken without permission. It is our last ingredient and we won't need it until we combine the three potions together, so you'll have some time. James, you should be going; I need those dragon parts sooner rather than later. Gentlemen, if you'd follow me, we can make the potions in the dungeon. The Ministry can't pick up any Dark magic done there."

James stopped on his tracks and looked at Draco. "Are you sure you want to do it there?" 

"Your father has been hit with a Dark curse. The ministry will be monitoring Dark magic and this house tends to be monitored a little more than the rest. That's the one place where they can't reach. If they could have, my Aunt would have been arrested back in 1996." Draco wasn't as surprised when James kissed him a second time. "I'll be all right. Just get me what I need."

* * *

It took four days to assemble all the ingredients and prepare the potion and on the fifth day Harry was cured. Draco didn't go to St. Mungo's, but Scorpius had assured him that the potion had worked. In fact, Harry had felt better so quickly that he'd left the hospital that same afternoon, leaving the Healer in charge of the case gobsmacked by the incredible recovery. Neither Scorpius nor Albus had felt the need to share with said Healer that they had administered an unknown potion to a patient and therefore Harry Potter had accomplished another miracle.

The next morning, he received an invitation for tea, one that he couldn't turn down. Unlike what James thought, Draco wasn't going because of their relationship, but to ensure that Harry stayed alive long enough to stop this new war. He arrived at Godric's Hollow at five on the dot. James opened the door and led him into a drawing room filled with chairs and couches. There were pillows and coffee tables everywhere. He'd learned that the Potters had decorated with their very large family in mind and all of them could have tea comfortably in this room. The Potters were currently occupying a couch, while the rest of the trio had laid claim to another. 

"Good evening. Mrs. Potter, thank you for the invitation," he said, before his eyes turned on his son who seemed to be falling asleep in one of the sofas. "Why are you still here? Pansy is expecting you for dinner, before the opera."

"Albus is fretting," he answered with a smirk.

"Albus should be fretting. You two go through sets of twins faster than people change undergarments. If you try that with her daughters, not only she will ensure that you never have sex again, but she'll whinge for months and then I shall make your lives miserable." He was not joking, because if he had to put up with an unhappy Pansy, they would feel his wrath.

"We won't. Albus has had a thing for Violet for ages, but she's always refused to go out with him," Scorpius said, as if that explained everything.

"That's because he wanted sex and she wanted a ring. It still doesn't explain about you and Jasmine. You can't promise and not deliver," Draco warned.

"I know, Father," Scorpius said rolling his eyes. "Casual has become… boring and they know that we still have to work long hours and we aren't ready to settle down just yet, but we're taking this seriously."

"We're going to settle down eventually… maybe… if Mrs. Nott doesn't hex us," Albus said as he swept in carrying two robes. "Help me pick."

"You're still not ready?" Scorpius answered, exasperated.

"It's just a bloody robe," Ron said.

"But it's not. They care about these things. They are real purebloods, not like us, you know?" Albus answered.

Draco bit his lip trying not to laugh, before eyed the robes. "The charcoal one. It matches Scorpius' blue, but you don't look like twins. It's not associated with Ravenclaws, but not as obvious as green. It's also more conservative and apt for the evening, and I've seen you in it. You look rather dashing in it."

Albus grinned. "Why couldn't anyone else helped like that? I'll be back in a minute."

"Because we're not poofters," Ron mumbled.

"Ron!" Ginny stared him down. 

"No need, Mrs. Potter. I'm well accustomed to your brother's manners," Draco answered.

"Not in my house, and Ron, you just managed to insult my guest and my son." Ginny sighed. "I do apologise and do call me Ginny. Too many Potters and too many Weasleys around."

"Very well, and please call me 'Draco'."

"Prat," Ron whispered.

"Git," Draco answered.

"At least they were civil while making the potion." James grinned at Draco and patted the seat next to him. Unlike his brother, he was not wearing a robe, but was comfortable in jeans and a shirt. He'd kicked off his shoes and was half sprawled on a sofa.

"Thank you for making the potion," Harry said. 

Draco shrugged as he sat down. "I had no choice since you won't listen to what I say. Wasn't it a very simple order? Stay alive, Potter. Really simple, but you had to do your best to disobey it."

"To ensure your well-being. I remember," Harry answered, grinning. "I wanted to listen, I really did, but old habits die hard."

"I hope that you don't plan on almost dying often. Aunt Bella might not be so cooperative next time." Draco enjoyed the irony that the woman most intent on killing Harry had been the key to his survival.

"Enough about potions. How do I look?" Albus asked as he stepped back, playing with his collar.

"You look wonderful, darling," Ginny answered.

"You look like a stiff at a funeral," James said at the same time.

Draco got up again and stood in front of Albus. "Stop fidgeting; you're ruining the robe." He fixed the collar and cast a spell. "There, that will stop it from rubbing your skin and it'll prevent any wrinkles. Listen to me, they are Slytherins. If they smell fear, they will never think you good enough for their daughter."

"You're not helping, Draco," Albus huffed.

Draco raised Albus' chin and stared at the young man. "Do not let them intimidate you. They might be real purebloods, but you are Albus Potter. You're smart, you're a Slytherin, you're a healer. You're the son of Harry Potter and member of a family of war heroes. You're better than they are and they are lucky that you're gracing them with your company. Talk to Theo about books, discuss clothes with Pansy, smile and never contradict them directly. Use your wits and insult them indirectly if you must. You'll be fine, but if you have sex with Violet and break up in the morning, I will hex you myself. Understood?"

Albus nodded. A big smile appeared and he hugged Draco. "Thank you."

"Yes, fine, you can let go now," Draco said, unsure of how he'd found himself in this situation and feeling much better when Albus moved back. "Off you go, and remember no proposals on the first date."

"Yes, Father," Scorpius answered, grinning.

"We'll wait until the second," Albus put in.

"Because we know you love the idea of us settling with proper witches," Scorpius continued.

"I'm very close to hexing you both. Scurry off, children." 

Albus laughed. "Bye, everyone and don't give Draco a hard time. I might need him later."

"Good night. I'll see you home, Father." Scorpius smiled politely and followed Albus out.

"They have you wrapped around their little conniving fingers," James said.

Draco sat back down next to James and did not comment on the fact that James laced their fingers together. "They think they do. If they truly settle down with Violet and Jasmine, I won't have to worry about inappropriate witches getting pregnant, horrible marriage arrangements and more discussions about sex. The twins will finally stop worrying about finding the proper match. I won't have to listen to Pansy complain that her daughters can't find a proper Slytherin, but instead she'll be happy that they have trapped a Potter and a Malfoy. Everyone will think that they got the better end of the deal and I won't have to deal with any of them. Five birds, one stone."

"Then why did you try to talk them out?" James asked with a frown.

"Because if I said otherwise, they would find a reason why it simply couldn't work out," he replied.

Harry chuckled. "Slytherin logic at its best. You're good with them. Albus-"

"He loves us," Ginny said, cutting Harry off.

"I know he does, but he doesn't think we understand him," Harry pointed out.

"That's because you don't, or at least you don't always understand the people around him," Draco said.

"Hey, Harry and Ginny are great parents," Ron said.

"I'm sure they are," Draco answered unperturbed. "That's not the problem, though. It's that they don't understand the environment that surrounds him. For example, I remember during their first Christmas break, Albus was having problems with some of the Slytherins, because of all the redheads related to him. Potter here told him to be nice and give it time. I told him to stand up on top of the coffee table when everyone was in the common room and to tell them that he was Harry Potter's son and they didn't even deserve to lick his boots. They were lucky if he could even remember who they were."

"I remember that. Well not what you told him, but him having problems," Ginny explained. "He owled us after going back, saying that things were better."

Draco smirked. "Yes, after he threatened to hex all of them with things his father had taught him. A quite brilliant addendum from him. He started owling me after that when he had what he called 'Slytherin questions'."

"You were helping a Potter best purebloods. That's-" Ron shook his head. "Albus, Jamie, Harry, you're up to something."

Draco snorted. "That was ten years ago and I was helping a Slytherin, a pureblood and my son's best friend best other Slytherins. I need Potter alive to stop this war. James-" He looked at his lover and smiled. "He's just a stubborn arse who doesn't understand the meaning of the word 'no'."

"Wanker," James answered. "And I'm irresistible. You should just accept it."

Hermione had been silent until then, but now she looked at the two of them with that little frown she had when she was trying to work something out. "I don't understand. You talked about Scorpius and Albus finding the proper witch and yet you are with Jamie."

"Aunt Hermione! I can be a proper wizard."

Draco snorted. "In your dream, perhaps. But, it is different. They will get married and have children. They should have a proper wife who can help them teach their children about our world and our traditions. They should know about robes instead of jeans, about the Dumbledore Opera Hall instead of the tevision-"

"Television," James supplied.

"You understand my point," Draco said, dismissing the correction.

"Aren't you going back to the blood divisions from thirty years ago, though?" Hermione asked. "And still how do you justify Jamie?"

Draco shook his head. "It's nothing like that. I have no taste for violence and I don't want to kill Muggles or worse Muggleborns. However, I do believe that in attempt to fix the problems we had, the Ministry has gone overboard, trying to integrate our world with the Muggles, in a misguided attempt at making the Muggleborn feel welcome, but the result is horrible and then people wonder why we have new Dark wizards cropping up."

Harry sat up. His elbows rested on his knees as he leaned forward to listen. "You know we haven't had any Slytherins in the upper echelons of the Ministry since the war. We're missing that perspective, what do you see that we don't?"

"Harry, you're not taking him seriously?"

"Yes, Ron, I am. I refuse to have another war, because we can't talk to each other. School was over a long time ago and we still talk about Gryffindors and Slytherins like it matters, but it doesn't, or at least it shouldn't. Do you know how hard it is for Albus to be the only Slytherin in this family? But why should it be like that? So yes, I'm listening."

Draco watched the exchange with interest, not because Harry was paying attention, but because it sounded like Ron was complaining out of habit more than real conviction. In fact, he seemed interested in the answer as well. If they could move past their differences, there was hope for their world. "After the war, we did everything possible to erase anything connected with pureblood superiority and Slytherins, but the truth is that those are the families who know most of the lore and traditions. Now it's okay to wear Muggle clothes and eat strange foods. We embrace Muggle culture."

"Not in your house," James put in.

"That's right, not in my house. When Albus gave Scorpius jeans as a present, I burnt them in front of them and told them that if Albus brought Muggle things into my house, they would never be allowed to talk outside of school," Draco said without any pang of remorse. "He might wear jeans under his robe when coming straight from the hospital and they are going somewhere, but he doesn't wear Muggle clothes when he comes specifically there. Same with the team. It's not because I want to go out there and kill Muggles, but because I will not be turned into a Muggle with magic, and that's what many youths are. Look at Granger, very smart woman and yet she believed that the Stone of Giramphiel was a myth."

"He's got you there," Ron said with a grin.

"How many other things does she not know? How many things do her children not know, because they are too busy with … with whatever they do in the Muggle world?" It had been a sore point after the war, how to balance tradition and integration. He had ideas, but he could not have done anything to implement them, instead he'd tried to maintain those traditions alive within his sphere of influence.

"Why haven't you spoken up before?" James asked.

Draco laughed. "What do you think the reception would have been? The Ministry is not listening to former Death Eaters who were lucky not to end up in Azkaban about the need to maintain pureblood traditions."

"If it listened, what would you say?" Harry asked quietly.

Draco stared into Harry's eyes, trying to see if it was a trick, but dismissed the idea. "I would look to America. They have closed their community. No marriages with Muggles. Muggleborns are integrated since birth practically. Muggleborns' parents learn about our world so they can teach their children. They haven't had a war since the Salem Trials, no problems with the Muggles since the Rappapport's Law of 1790, while Europe has a war every few decades. They must be doing something right."

"You can't possibly tell people not to marry Muggles," Hermione said horrified.

"America did, but even if you don't want to go down that route, you can make it hard, if not impossible to deal with Muggles and if people don't know Muggles, then they can't possibly marry," Draco pointed out. "I hadn't been in Muggle London in… well ever until I went to James'. I've never interacted with any Muggles other than with your parents in '99. What do you think are the chances that I would fall for a Muggle? Also contact Muggleborns' family at birth, teach the parents what to do, make them part of our world. Create a primary school and make it mandatory. Abolish all Muggle products and clothes in all the school, both in this primary school and Hogwarts. Teach the students about our holidays and traditions, have them visit the Ministry and the museums we have. We have a wealth of wonders and magic is only limited by power and imagination. We have Merlin and Excalibur. We have Hogwarts and its founders. We have the ability to create spells, see the future, read runes, instead we limit our children with moving pictures and a few lights, destroying our world in the process. Is it really hard to understand why France has a war in its hands? People aren't aligned based on blood status or school houses, but they are brought together by the fear that they are losing who they are. I understand that this is hard to understand for you and Granger, because you didn't grow up in our world, but to us it's not the magical world, it is _our_ world. We don't do magic, we have magic. We don't call Merlin and King Arthur myths, because they are history and it's all being wiped away to make Muggleborn feel welcome and that's just…"

"Sad," Ginny said softly.

"Yes, it is, so to answer your question, Granger, I want my son to have a proper wife so that he can have a piece of our world that he can leave to his own children and grandchildren."

"But you don't worry about us, because you already have your son and I'm one of those Muggles with magic," James said, the challenge clear in his voice.

Draco knew what answer was expected of him - he had been married for fifteen years after all – and instinct told him to lie, but there were too many people present who knew him too well and he looked for a way to share the truth without hurting James. "You're smart, obstinate, funny, easy going, but yes, you think about the Muggle world as your own. You live in it, you eat in it, you dress like them."

"I also went to Hogwarts, play Quidditch, used a certain invisibility cloak. I'm a wizard, too," James said. "You can live in both places."

Draco shook his head. "Sooner or later, you'll be pulled apart. Maybe not now, but when you settle down, when you have children-"

"Excuse me?" James let go of Draco's hand. "By that you mean that I'll settle down with some witch and have children, because you're not talking about egg donors and artificial insemination."

"I don't know how you expect me to answer that when I have no idea what those words even _mean_ ," Draco rebutted. "And where are you going now?"

"To get a cupcake that I can eat while listening to my mp3s on my iPhone with my headphones, but stay here and discuss pureblood traditions and wars." 

Draco watched him go, completely confounded. Ron's laughter wasn't helping. "What language was he speaking?"

"Muggle English," Hermione said, smiling.

"Gryffindor speak," Ron answered at the same time. "You might be great with the Slytherins, but you're pants with the Gryffindors."

"You mean I should have lied. That's the best way to deal with Gryffindors." And wives. He should have known better than to tell the truth.

"I'll go talk to him. He'll calm down soon enough; he always does," Ginny said.

"Let me," Draco said with a sigh. "I'll never hear the end of it otherwise." That much he knew from his previous marriage.

"Malfoy, tomorrow I'll come by your office," Potter said. "We might not be able to help France, but maybe we can do something here. I'd like to hear more about your ideas and I can still make sure that a few laws pass when they are important."

Draco snorted as he got up. "You could make yourself ruler of our world and no one would complain, but all right. I think if we give people an excuse not to support these madmen, they will take it. No one wants another war, and now, if you'll excuse me, I have to deal with a sulking Gryffindor. It's almost like being in school all over again."

* * *

"'M fine. I'll be out in a moment." James was sitting down, arms on the table and his head down on his arms. He answered without thinking, feeling like he had when he was younger and one of his parents came to console him.

"You're not fine."

His head snapped up when he heard Draco speak. He hadn't expected Draco to follow, because he knew what the man's priorities were. He had been wrong, but now he didn't know what to say. "You found our kitchen, amazing! I didn't think you could do that."

"That's because this house, while larger than your flat, is still pretty small." Draco sat next to James. "I also know where the kitchen is in my house. The reason I don't go in there is because during the war, when the pain got so bad, the house elves would Apparate me in the kitchen in the hope that the Dark Lord and the other Death Eaters would leave me alone. They were right. They all thought themselves too important to venture into the kitchen, but I learned to associate the kitchen with excruciating pain."

"I don't understand why you live there. You won't go into half of those rooms and you changed the other half."

Draco smiled. "Because I belong there. The house is part of my history and of my family's history. I couldn't live anywhere else." He reached over and he ran his fingers through James' hair. "I don't tell people about myself, but I've never lied to you. Do not ask me questions if you don't want to hear the answer."

"I didn't think that this was a game for you," James answered.

"It's not, James. This is a very dangerous relationship and I should have stayed away, but it's also a secret and it will stay that way. You are a player, I'm your boss."

"It would be worse if I played somewhere else. Imagine all the accusation of colluding," James said, shaking his head.

"Exactly and even after you retire, not much would change. How many gay people do you know? Even Dumbledore was never seen with another man. The greatest wizard alive, but even he understood that he'd never kept his job if he were in a relationship. There were rumours and innuendoes, but never really confirmation. I might have outed myself, but I've never been with a wizard since. In fact, we don't even have expressions about coming out. The papers used Muggles expressions that we've embraced, because no one 'comes out' and you don't have two men in a relationship. Our world isn't ready for that and I wouldn't put you in that position." 

"That's really it, isn't it? You worry about Scorpius, because he can have a real relationship, but you don't see ours as one." James sat up straight and turned the chair slightly. "Why do this then?"

"I've asked myself that very question." He leaned closer and pressed his lips against James gently. "I like you. I enjoy spending time with you. I will hold onto this for as long as we can, but I won't trap you in a relationship."

"You're such a wanker." James took a deep breath in and let it out. "They go out on one date and you're talking marriage. I've had a crush on you for almost eight years, we go out for weeks and you're still thinking that I want out. Here's one pureblood tradition that sucks: just because we're gay, it doesn't mean we need the fake marriage and secret affairs. I want this to last. If I could have gone on my knee and proposed to you, I would have done it over dinner that first time you came to my house, but while I can't- Oh screw that."

He slid out of his chair and knelt down. "Draco Malfoy, would you do me the honour of fornicating in sin for the rest of our lives? Of spending our lives together despite the fact that I wear jeans and you're a snob?"

Draco snorted. "Is this a proposal or a marriage?"

"It's anything you want it to be," James answered.

"Gryffindors!" Rushing where angels feared to thread. It should be the Gryffindor motto. "I want-" It wasn't the first time that James asked and he'd always given vague answers, because he hadn't thought about the practicalities of life, or he'd preferred to ignore the problems that existed, but once again he was pondering the question and this time he gave a real answer. "I want to celebrate our first league title with you. I want to spend the holidays with you, even if it means dealing with your crazy family. I want to- I want you in my life, but I'm not sure how it would work."

"Since you're not saying I do-" James sat down again. "We can't have the proposal and the engagement party and the wedding, how about we start with something much simple? We move in together. You hate where I live. There aren't that many places safer than the manor. The press would never come there."

"You'd never be comfortable there. You like take-away and televisions and trousers." Draco was certain that moving in would ensure that this ended sooner rather than later.

"Contrary to what you believe, I am a wizard. I survived Hogwarts without withdrawal symptoms. I can wear robes without breaking in hives and I eat take-away because I'm too lazy to cook. You have house elves that take care of that." James frowned. "Unless you don't want me around."

"James, _dear_ I was married to a Slytherin woman. Playing the 'hurt card' should be reserved for much bigger things, especially when you know that I want you around," Draco answered.

"Busted," James said with a grin. "I'll make you a deal. I will try this pureblood lifestyle you like so much and you'll try to call me Jamie. It's so strange to hear you call me James. That's for the press and people who don't know me."

"I suppose I could do that." He stared at James, with a million doubts still swirling in his head. A few months ago he hadn't even considered being with someone and now James had talked his way into moving into the manor. "This won't be easy."

James shrugged. "I know I come off as the joker, but I worked hard in school. Twelve NEWTs to match my uncles, played pranks to match the fun uncles, the grandfather and his friends, played Quidditch to emulate parents and too many other relatives. I still work my arse off on the pitch. I know that the important things don't come easy in life. We're important. So can we go home now?"

Draco should say no, he still had the chance to stop this insanity. What he said instead was, "Let's go home."

* * *

"Astoria just arrived." James entered their bedroom as he spoke. They'd been living together for three months together and the idea that they shared a bedroom still gave him butterflies. 

"I can't believe you get along with my ex." Draco shook his head, before his attention returned to the buttons of his robe.

"You and your buttons. And of course I like her. She gives me blackmail material on you." James grabbed his own robe. It was elegant, but it did not contain even a tenth of the buttons that Draco's robe did. "Can you believe they are getting engaged? On the same day? And it's been only three months since their first date."

Draco finished buttoning the robe and went to his lover. He pressed a kiss on the back of James' neck. "You don't have a leg to stand on. It took them three months to get engaged and they don't plan to get married until next summer. It took you two to move in."

James turned around and smiled. "But I've always known what I wanted. They had to screw every witch of the right age before proposing to Violet and Jasmine. Pansy must be thrilled."

"Not so much about your father's insistence that their party not be at the Nott estate." It would have made more sense to have it there considering both sisters were getting engaged on the same day, but Harry wouldn't go there. Pansy wouldn't go to Godric's Hollow because it was too small. Malfoy Manor had been chosen as the perfect compromise.

"At least Albus and Violet won't be living with Dad." He snorted. "I still can't believe he wants to renovate Grimmauld Place and live there."

"I think it's a good compromise. It's a Black home. The Potters, Parkinsons and Notts have all intermarried with the Blacks at some point or another. It'll be good for them to have the house," Draco reasoned.

"But, it wouldn't be good for Scorpius to have his own house." James smirked, because they had this conversation plenty of times all ready. "Three generations under one roof. Four once he has children. Do you think the manor will be able to withstand it?"

"Of course, it's big enough and even if I sent him away, you'd still be the third generation. Or are you saying that you want to move out?" Draco let go of James to give him a chance to put his new dress robe. "Scorpius and Jasmine will be fine here and so are we. Unless- did you want Grimmauld Place for yourself? You are the firstborn after all."

James rolled his eyes. "Merlin's balls, that's a horrid thought. That house gives me the creeps. It's so… Slytherin-ish." He shivered at the memories of the house. "Besides, I already have a house right here. I'm not going anywhere, although-"

Draco knew that something was coming. James had been quiet for a few days, or what passed as quiet for him, which meant still a lot more talkative than the Malfoys currently living at the manor. He put his arms around James again. "Tell me what's bothering. You know that if you try to keep silent, you'll blurt it out at the possible worst moment."

James scrunched his nose. "I do that a lot, huh?"

"I think you amuse Mother with your random comments, not that she'd say." 

"That's because I'm not related to her. She'd have a fit if Scorpius said the same things." James had come to accept that Narcissa would accept anything to make Draco happy, but that didn't mean that she approved of it. She simply loved her son unconditionally. 

He locked his fingers behind Draco's neck and sighed. "Probably not the best time, but… Do you regret having Scorpius?"

"No. There's never been a day when I regretted the decision to get married and have my son. You know that, though." He kissed James softly and pulled back. "What's bothering you?"

"I want a child," James blurted out. "I know what you think about Muggle ways-"

"Jamie, you don't need Muggles for a child. Wizards have been doing it for a long time," Draco said. "If you want one, then we find a pureblood witch, maybe out of the country. She can take oaths never to contact you or the child after giving birth."

"What would we tell people?" James said.

"That the mother died? With all these attacks all over Europe, it wouldn't be strange." After the attack on Harry, things had been quiet in Britain. They never found the culprit of the attack and the Aurors were still looking, but their focus was on preventing a new war. The Ministry was slowly passing measures to promote wizarding culture without creating new divisions and it seemed to be doing the trick. The continent was not as lucky. 

James' voice cut through Draco's inner musing. "Do you understand that not using Muggle ways would mean me having sex with someone else, right?"

"I'm aware of how children are made, but I assure you that I find the idea of having one through Muggle medical ways a lot more disturbing than the idea of you having sex with a witch for the purposes of procreation."

"You're so weird," James said with a snort. "For the record, I'd rip you balls off if you did that."

Draco smiled, amused. "Since I have no plans to impregnate anyone, that danger is non-existent."

"That simple? Find someone, make her take oaths, impregnate her, have a child?" Draco was usually the planner, but this time it was James who wanted something solid. "What happens after?"

"We stop sleeping at night for a substantial period of time. You'll be tired from practice and night feedings. Our sex life will decline for a while," Draco said calmly. "You'll be a wonderful father. Your family will try to spoil the child rotten. The public will melt at the idea of the poor suffering single father and life will go on."

"What about you? I don't want to be a single father. I want us to raise this child." It might not be the way things were done in their world, but James didn't care about propriety and traditions. He wanted a family.

"I won't let you do this alone, but this child will have a father already; that's you. I can be a special uncle." Most people wouldn't be able to get away with that, but James was Harry's son and no one would question his story. 

"It sucks." He rested his forehead on Draco's shoulder. He felt his lover hold him tighter and he sighed. "One day I'll come out."

Draco kissed the top of James' head. "We'll be fine even if you don't. Our families know and they are fine with it. We'll enjoy our lives and be happy. What the rest of the world knows won't change that. Now let's get ready for this party. With any luck, no one will hex each other."

Luck. James had never believed in luck. He always believed in making his own, but right now, in Draco's arms, planning to raise a family together, he thanked his lucky stars that he'd found his way into Draco's life.


End file.
